


The Warmest Part Of You

by Charlynch



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, This is a clusterfuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-09-17 17:22:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16978755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlynch/pseuds/Charlynch
Summary: Best friends with benefits; simple, no feelings, an agreement founded on sensible decisions. Both Charlotte and Becky understood that, or at least thought they did. When Paige finds out, things only get more complicated, and Becky finds herself wishing she’d never bowed to The Queen in the first place.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is the most explicit thing i’ve Ever written so if it’s cursed and terrible pls let me know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _You look good in blue;  
>  It matches your skin, your eyes dripping with pain,  
> Someone like you  
> Getting off on the lies 'cause it dulls your surprise again,  
> If it's alright with you  
> I could give you some head, and shoulders to lie on_

She’s all poured ore, alchemic in her majesty; the world fizzles and evaporates around her, and she ripples at the edges like a mirage. The sounds of the crowd sparks and thunders like the heat of a forge.

But away from it all, when she’s in her arms, she’s soft.

Her voice was low, her glances measured behind coquettish lashes, her hands haltingly exploratory. She was gentle, gentler than anybody might have imagined she could be.

Becky was not gentle. Her hands knotted in Charlotte’s hair, drawing a sharp gasp from her as Becky pushed her backward and climbed on top of her, spreading her lover’s legs roughly with her knee, and sliding her thigh between them to press hard against her. Charlotte’s gasp turned to a soft moan as she draped her arms around Becky’s shoulders and leaned to kiss her. She was tiger striped with kendo stick bruises, blooming on her skin like so many violets. Some of those were Becky’s. Becky traced fingers over Charlotte’s upper arm, studying the strange bloody blossoms with a slight frown.

“You know better than to worry about that,” Charlotte whispered, gently taking Becky’s wrist and guiding her hand to her breasts, away from the bruises. “I know how to take a hit. Even from The Man.”

“Okay, but can it please be noted that it’s really weird to hear you call me that when we’re uh... I dunno. Doin’ this,” Becky said, suddenly sheepish; the way Charlotte was looking at her made her feel far more flustered than she’d ever admit.

“And what, Becky, is this?” Charlotte breathed, moving as if to kiss Becky, but deftly rolling in order to switch positions. Suddenly underneath Charlotte, Becky flushed.

“You know what I mean. I don’t wanna think about work in the middle of shiftin’ somebody, that’s just-“

“Shifting?”

“Oh shut u-,” Becky huffed, her sentence cut off as Charlotte grabbed her wrists and pinned her down to kiss her. They broke apart for only moments, to pull their clothes off with such frenetic energy that Becky couldn’t undo the hook of her own bra, and they collapsed together laughing, kissing, enveloping each other. Charlotte unhooked the bra and carefully slid it off Becky’s shoulders, tossing it aside and swiftly dipping to press bruising kisses to Becky’s chest and neck. Between them, there was always a resistance, and a quiet power struggle. Both fought for the upper hand, refused to give in to the other’s ministrations, fighting and fucking in equal measure. Becky struggled against Charlotte’s grip, and blushed as Charlotte flicked her gaze upward knowingly; Becky had always rather liked the sensation of being unable to break free, of being taken by somebody, and Charlotte knew all too well. Vivid still were the memories of bound wrists in a dim boudoir, her body given over entirely to Charlotte, who had buried her face in her and stayed there so long Becky would almost have been concerned for her access to oxygen if she wasn’t benefitting so greatly from her lover’s keen interest in going down on her. The memory made her entire body tense and shiver, and she heard Charlotte laugh softly against her rib cage as she trailed her kisses ever further downward. However, regardless of how much Becky enjoyed being dominated, it wasn’t often that she allowed it to happen; Becky liked being in control of the situation too much. Letting go? That was for special occasions. In a moment of pique, Becky turned Charlotte’s own technique against her and rolled them over to resume her position atop the blonde.

“Not this time,” Becky whispered, putting a finger to Charlotte’s lips. “I want to tie you up.”

Charlotte studied her face for a long moment, reaching out to brush a few vermillion curls out of Becky’s eyes. Barely resisting the urge to let her fingers trail along Becky’s jawline, Charlotte gently pushed Becky off and sat up.

“There’s a silk scarf in my bag,” she said quietly, getting up and going to extricate the object from the tangle of her belongings. Becky let herself flop backward onto the pillows with a sigh, absentmindedly trailing her fingers along her inner thigh. She flushed again as her fingertips grazed her and came away glistening with her want, a deep ache in the very pit of her stomach.

“I’ll take care of that,” Charlotte said quietly, sliding her fingers into the soft satin of Becky’s desire, seeking the pearl amongst all the pink, teasing such a long, breathy moan from her that it was allCharlotte could do not to pin her down and slip her fingers inside her, and have her with such aggression that Becky would forget her own name. But she was going to be ladylike; Becky wanted to tie her up, and of course she’d oblige. It wasn’t fair that she got to monopolise the sexual dynamic, she’d decided. And besides; she might like it.

Becky deftly looped the scarf around her wrists and tied them to the bedframe with surprising speed and efficiency.

“This doesn’t look like your first time doing something like this,” Charlotte asked, managing to summon the ghost of an attitude despite her compromising position, and Becky’s hands and mouth on her breasts.

“What are you talkin’ about, I touch your tits all the time,” Becky replied, barely looking up.

“I meant tying me up, you idi-,” Charlotte replied witheringly, cut off as Becky delivered a sharp slap across her face. Charlotte was stunned into silence for a moment, her heart racing. She felt herself strain against her bonds already, spreading her legs almost instinctively, her lips parted as she desperately sought the kiss Becky would deliver moments later. She knew this game, it was just that last time, she was the one doing the slapping. As Becky kissed her, she felt Becky’s fingers against her, flicking across the velveted secret places that made her moan with a kind of desperation she had never known she was capable of. Becky broke the kiss to laugh at her, her dark eyes bright with a fierceness that made them seem almost amber.

“Please,” Charlotte whispered, the muscles in her arms tense against the bed frame as she tugged uselessly to free herself.

“You’re beautiful,” Becky said softly, her fingers still teasing trembling utterances of her name from Charlotte’s lips. “But you’re even prettier when you beg.”

Becky ignored Charlotte’s request, settling on her stomach to kiss the insides of Charlotte’s thighs, and further still as Charlotte trembled beneath her. Her tongue found its way to everywhere that made Charlotte bite her lip to keep from crying out, that made her hips jerk so abruptly that she managed to split Becky’s lip. Becky, knowing Charlotte would make her stop if she noticed, said nothing, holding her trembling thighs apart as she called Becky’s name in fervent ecstasy, colour rising to her cheeks and her chest as every sensation threatened to swallow her whole and turn her into glittering dust. As the world seemed to ebb around her and she relaxed against the silk binding, closing her eyes, she felt Becky rest her head on her chest and wrap her arms around her. She allowed Charlotte a few quavering intakes of breath before she reached up to untie her, allowing her arms to naturally fall into an embrace. Charlotte kissed her with such tenderness that Becky pulled away, uncertain, and Charlotte looked away, her brows knitting together. There had always been that agreement between them; “we’re just best friends with benefits.” No feelings, nobody gets hurt, nobody to screw over, no conflict with the job. With sudden aggression Becky had not anticipated, Charlotte pushed her backward, all the softness gone from her face. Her hair was a golden halo, mussed to wild curls and falling out braids by the pillows, by Becky’s hands, by gravity. As soon as Becky realised what was coming, she wriggled downward and obliged, allowing Charlotte to straddle her and grip the bedframe as Becky resumed her activities between Charlotte’s thighs. She held Charlotte close with one arm, sliding her other hand downward to touch herself as Charlotte rode every kiss, her knuckles turning white on the headboard. Becky felt the familiar deep ache within herself and moaned into Charlotte, who responded with a quickening of her own, making so much noise Becky was certain they’d be questioned.

“Becky Becky Becky Becky Becky Becky,” Charlotte moaned, diminishing to breathy gasps as she gestured for Becky to stop. “Please. Please.”

Becky felt Charlotte move off her and replace Becky’s hand with her own, finishing what the redhead had started, holding Becky against her. Charlotte took Becky’s wrist and gently raised her fingers to her lips, licking them clean with a dark, bright want in her eyes that made Becky feel that familiar shiver creep down her spine.

“Come for me,” Charlotte whispered, knowing that those magic words were all Becky needed; she buried her face in Charlotte’s neck and screamed, her entire body giving into lust as she came, grinding hard against Charlotte’s fingers. Charlotte gently withdrew her fingers and pulled Becky close as she started to cry.

“Hey hey hey,” Charlotte cooed softly, stroking Becky’s cheek, absently playing with her hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It wasn’t that bad was it?”

Becky laughed weakly; no matter how many times Charlotte made the joke, it still made her feel a little less awkward. She wasn’t sure why she cried when she came particularly hard, and it only ever happened with Charlotte, but Charlotte was always understanding.

“No it was perfect, you were perfect,” Becky sniffled. “You always are. It’s just like, it’s too much for me to feel at once, y’know? And I just start cryin’ and don’t know why.”

“That’s okay,” Charlotte replied, her face nestled in Becky’s bright mane. “You take all the time you need. You were... wonderful.”

They sighed, contented, exhausted, utterly at peace. Becky closed her eyes; she couldn’t bear the way Charlotte looked at her. It made her feel like she was just using her, and besides; she didn’t feel worth that kind of adoring gaze. They were both here for one thing, and they’d promised not to get soft, though Becky had to admit it only got harder to resist Charlotte as time passed. As they drew the blankets about themselves, dozing in post-coital embrace, Charlotte counted out a silent truth to the beat of Becky’s pulse; _I love you, I love you, I love you._

 

“Becky,” the word tripped across her lips, half a request, half a prayer, and there was a serene intensity in her eyes that would’ve made Becky tremble, had she been the type of woman to do so. Becky laced her fingers through Charlotte’s and leaned in to graze a kiss against her jawline. Beneath her, Charlotte is pliable and willing, the softest of gasps velveted against Becky’s skin. Between them, their heartbeats melted together, a reddish rush that kept time against their embrace. This was the warmest part of morning, before the world took hold, before they were shaken apart and cast out into their existences as separate entities. The sky turns gold, and neither wants to be the one to break the embrace; it comes naturally, the demands of their existences prising them apart. They had an agreement that belonged to the liminal spaces between the days, to all the quiet, to the stillness beyond the reach of anybody else.

“I don’t wanna get up,” Becky murmured, her voice a purr with the remnants of sleep.

“You never do,” Charlotte replied, dimpling around the quip as a smile crept across her lips. “But we always have to. Come on, if we get up, I’ll buy you breakfast. Also, did I bust your lip yesterday?”

“What a gentleman,” Becky answered sardonically, sitting up to stretch, her hair spilling about her shoulders in a fiery curtain. “Alright. And yes, you did. Don’t freak out, it’s kinda hot.”

Charlotte resisted the urge to reach out and touch the defined musculature of Becky’s back; they both knew where that led, and it was usually to both of them showing up late to whatever their morning schedule demanded of them. Charlotte was leonine as she mimicked her lover and rose with an expansive spread of her arms, pushing her hair out of her face as she did so. She winced; the assault from Becky and Asuka (and a surprisingly resilient kendo stick) at the match the night before had not left her unscathed.

“Speaking of breakfast,” Becky added, a half smile tucked in the corner of her mouth. “You should probably go back to your own room before Paige comes around to try and recruit breakfast buddies.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than they heard Paige’s voice from the hallway, accompanied by a sharp knock. Becky sighed, gestured for Charlotte to try and look inconspicuous -though Becky was fairly sure Charlotte had never been inconspicuous in her life- and pulled on a dressing gown to go answer the plaintive calls emanating from outside the door.

“Hey let me in, I’ve gotta pee and I left my room key with Asuka,” Paige said in a rush the moment Becky opened the door, pushing past into the bathroom and barely glancing at Charlotte. For a few moments, Becky and Charlotte were frozen, before erupting into anxious, whispered conversation about how they’d explain away the very blonde, very naked colleague in Becky’s bed. They were cut short when Paige emerged from the bathroom, wiping her hands on her jeans. She looked at Becky. She looked at Charlotte. Becky shrugged, Charlotte tried her best to disappear into the pillows. There was a long pause.

“Good morning,” Charlotte said blithely, realising her attempts to merge with the soft furnishings were unsuccessful. Paige responded with hysterical laughter. She laughed so hard she had to sit at the end of the bed whilst Becky fetched her a glass of water. After much of the uncontrollable mirth dispersed, Paige was able to stop cackling for long enough to speak.

“I can’t believe it.”

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Becky said solemnly, at the precise moment Charlotte hurriedly yelped “it’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh so there’s another reason you’re both rolling about naked in mysteriously close proximity to each other?” Paige asked Charlotte. “We can call those hickeys kendo stick bruises to cover your embarrassment, but honestly I’m just interested to hear the excuse you have for being in Becky’s bed.”

“The Irish are a very eccentric people,” Charlotte said lamely, her voice diminishing with each word.

“Very,” Becky added, sitting down on the edge of the bed with Paige. “Ancient Irish tradition to beat somebody up and get naked with them to appease the Old Gods.”

“You know if Asuka was in here too, maybe I’d have believed that,” Paige yawned, stretching and flopping backward to look at Charlotte in an upside down sort of way. “I won’t say anything, but you owe me breakfast.”

“She’s already getting my breakfast,” Becky interjected. “She wasn’t literally sittin’ on your chest yesterday, she doesn’t owe you anythin’.”

“I’ll buy you both breakfast,” Charlotte said wearily, and both women beamed at her. “But please; I need coffee before we unpack any of this entire mess of a situation.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _'Cause we both know  
>  I'll never be your lover  
> I only bring the heat  
> Company under cover  
> Filling space in your sheets_

The sky was alarmingly blue, as if carefully penned in by an illustrator with a very specific vision in mind, each cloud carefully picked out and edged in gold, fine as needlepoint. Becky shielded her eyes against the sun and frowned, absently kicking her legs as she sat on a wall, waiting for Charlotte to return with coffee.

“I mean, I knew you were close but I hadn’t predicted this,” Paige was saying, leaning lazily against the wall with her chin tilted to the sky. Her smile was a scarlet promise of gentle mocking, kind but barbed with the edge of a quip ready to trip from her lips if provoked.

“Neither did I,” Becky replied honestly; her and Charlotte... it had just sort of happened. They had been best friends, then things sort of blurred.

“At least she’s a good kisser,” Paige shrugged, adjusting her sunglasses and cackling as Becky sat up abruptly with a scowl.

“What?”

“Relax. You can’t get possessive; I thought you said it was ‘just friends with benefits’?” Paige said pointedly. “Nah we got drunk together once and were trying to figure out if the liquid lipstick I’d just bought was kiss-proof. It wasn’t, if you were wondering.”

Becky let her posture slacken, jarred by Paige’s words. She was right; she couldn’t get possessive. The whole point of this entire thing was that there were no strings attached. Becky had kept Charlotte at arm’s length, as much as one could whilst also sleeping with somebody; she couldn’t change the goalposts now. Her train of thought was interrupted by the vision of Charlotte sweeping through the crowd as she strode toward them, her hair a golden halo in the sunlight. She ruined the effect somewhat by getting distracted by a dog halfway over and pausing to crouch down and enthusiastically pet said dog, her patrician face losing some of the regal impact as she wrinkled her nose lovingly and cooed at the spaniel who was presently climbing all over her lap. The spaniel’s owner looked at a loss as to what to do about the enormous, alarmingly buxom blonde that had attached herself to his dog.

“God, look at her. What an idiot,” Becky sighed affectionately.

“Are you gonna let that dog get away with trying to steal your girl?”

“Shut up Paige, you’re not allowed an opinion on this anymore,” Becky responded, her tone both teasing and decisive.

“Why, because I’m telling you what you don’t want to hear?” Paige asked, all humour gone from her voice. “Whatever you do, don’t break her heart. After all she’s been through, it’s barely holding together.”

“Whose heart are we breaking?” Charlotte asked absently, still looking back at the dog with a soft smile.

“Sonya’s. Apparently the place we’re going to does amazing doughnuts and she wanted to come with,” Paige said breezily, accepting the coffee Charlotte proffered. The lie slipped out with an ease that almost made Becky uncomfortable.

“Maybe she should have got her arse out of bed before like, five minutes ago,” Becky answered with grim resignation, shaking her head as she too took her coffee from Charlotte. There was a strange thrill in playing along with Paige.

“You really are heartless,” Charlotte said, raising one perfect eyebrow at the two of them. “Is there a reason you’re both being absolute gargoyles, or is it just one of those days?”

“Paige has an excuse, she’s a big goth,” Becky said between sips of coffee. “It’s her job to be like that.”

“And Becky’s just a real life gremlin, manifesting here for our entertainment,” Paige added. “In fact it’s less that we’re gargoyles, and more that you’re a Being Of Light And Love and we simply SEEM gargoylish next to you.”

“Okay, there’s no need for sarcasm,” Charlotte said, crossing her arms. “Are we having breakfast or not?”

Becky reluctantly shifted off the wall, and they headed toward the breakfast place, sipping coffee as they went. Becky trailed a little behind Paige and Charlotte as they bickered about what to get - “no but if you’re not having carbs then I don’t want to be eating trash ALONE, what kind of friend are you” - and got lost in her own thoughts. She wasn’t sure why Paige was so worried about heartbreak; Charlotte’s “heart” had nothing to do with their arrangement, Becky told herself. There were no hearts, there was no romance, this was strictly sex. And what’s sex between two good friends who beat each other up on TV for a living? It wasn’t like they were obvious; it took Paige almost walking in on them for her to even figure out anything was going on. She picked moodily at the hem of her top; this whole thing hadn’t been such a big deal yesterday. Who was Paige to come in and suddenly make things about feelings?

Becky mused irritably on Paige’s remarks all the way to the restaurant, and most of the way through breakfast. She was momentarily distracted by Charlotte’s insistence on spooning a huge forkful of chocolate peanut butter pancakes into her mouth with the assurance that they were “actual literal heaven”, but Paige’s knowing look as she dabbed peanut butter off her chin (Charlotte’s aim was not at its best first thing in the morning.) quickly sent her back into her taciturn mood. Indeed, she was so preoccupied that Charlotte linked arms with her and started trying to cheer her up with some of the worst puns Becky had heard in her life. They were so bad, in fact, that she had to smile.

“You’re both dorks,” Paige asserted firmly as they made their way back to the hotel. The two women suddenly became very aware of how they must’ve looked, clinging to each other and cracking jokes with flushed cheeks like teenagers in love, and broke apart. Becky cleared her throat.

“Nothin’ to see here, officer. Subtle is my middle name,” Becky said gruffly, and Paige simply gazed at her inscrutably from behind her sunglasses. “Shouldn’t we go inside? Stay out here long enough and you might catch a tan.”

“If we can be serious for a second,” Charlotte interjected. “I’d really appreciate if you uh... didn’t mention this to anybody else. You know how people can be about stuff like this.”

“Your wish is my command,” Paige said with a slight mock bow, almost losing her sunglasses in the process. “Just try to keep your hands off each other for the ten minutes it takes for you to get back to your room.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Charlotte said loftily, winking at Becky with such pantomime emphasis that Becky snorted. “But we’ll do our best.”

Becky, remembering that she was in a bad mood with Paige, said nothing.

“I mean, you’re permanently clinging to her like some kind of huge, blonde shellfish all the damn time anyway,” Paige shrugged. “It might be more noticeable if you somehow managed to detach yourself. But whatever, I won’t say anything. I promise.”

Charlotte leaned in to give Paige a hug. Becky rolled her eyes. As they entered the building, Becky reached out instinctively to take Charlotte’s hand. Remembering Paige’s words, she let her hand fall to her side. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was so irritated that their situation demanded some level of subtlety; it was just sex. It wasn’t like they were trying to hide that they were dating. Holding hands? That was a bit “coupley” even if they weren’t sleeping with each other. Paige was right; perhaps some distance was the best idea. Becky tried to ignore the niggling thought inside her that said _but you don’t want to be distant. You want to wrap her in your arms and play with her hair and tell the world she’s yours._

Charlotte, seemed to sense Becky’s turmoil, nudged her and mouthed “you okay?”

Becky shrugged her off and moved away from her touch as if she’d been burned.

“I’m takin’ the stairs,” she said irritably, storming away and leaving Paige and Charlotte standing by the elevator doors nonplussed. Charlotte watched her friend go, anxious to follow, but knowing when to leave Becky alone. The thing was, Charlotte didn’t want to leave Becky alone.

 

Charlotte fell back onto the pillow, her hair pooling round her in an aureate cloud. She reached for Becky, her legs still trembling as she came down, her breaths shaky. Becky ignored her outstretched arms and got up, wrapping herself in a robe and fetching herself a glass of water.

“Hey,” Charlotte said softly, sitting up. Becky avoided looking at her; she was too beautiful in that vulnerable afterglow, when she’d given all of herself to Becky and seemed fragile as wildflowers. Her eyes, always a maelstrom of colour, were warm and wanting and green, but as Becky turned away, she felt as though a candle inside her had been blown out.

“Should I go?” Charlotte asked in a small voice, tentatively getting out of bed.

“Well unless you want another ride, I guess you should,” Becky replied nonchalantly, still not looking at her. Charlotte could only summon a very quiet “oh” as she got dressed. She gathered her things and made to leave, pausing at the door to look at Becky one last time, hoping to find answers somewhere in the autumnal fire of her eyes. She found nothing.

“Goodnight,” Becky’s tone was clipped. Charlotte tried to respond, but couldn’t, and only nodded, stepping out into the hallway. She walked a few feet and stopped, trying to summon her composure as she started to cry. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was crying, but she didn’t want to think about it as she let herself into her room and got into her very cold, very empty bed. In the privacy of the dark, she let herself cry until she gasped and hiccuped, great fat tears darkening her pillow and rolling down her cheeks. She clung to her pillow, weeping bitterly, unaware that on the other side of the wall, Becky’s sobs kept time with her own, the dark simply holding them, allowing them to cry, and making no effort to stem their tears.

As Charlotte rolled over, she realised that might have been the first time Becky hadn’t kissed her or held her afterward. Even the first time, she’d held her and covered her face with soft, featherlight kisses, laughing and crying in equal measure. Even the first time, she’d begged Charlotte not to leave, holding onto her wrist until she got back into bed with her. No matter how casual their arrangement was, they had always made time to comfort one another, to share the moments of ebbing bliss together, to sleep feeling utterly safe tangled in one another’s arms. It seemed that Becky had experienced a change of heart. As she lay there in the dark, curled around nothing with her own arms wrapped around her to try and soothe the ferocious sadness that bubbled somewhere in her chest cavity, Charlotte decided that she wasn’t sure she liked this change of heart. In fact, she didn’t like it at all.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everybody reading and reviewing! it might take me a little while to reply to comments but please be assured that i dearly appreciate every single one.
> 
> _Wait for me on the blue horizon  
>  Blue horizon for everyone  
> Wait for me on a new horizon  
> New horizons for everyone_

It seemed like an eternity before the door creaked open, the foreboding drone of the hinges serving only to make the quiet of the hall seem even more oppressive.

“Paige?” Charlotte asked, blinking in confusion against the hallway lighting. She stepped aside to let Paige in, drawing her robe about herself more tightly.

“I didn’t see you at dinner, wanted to check you were okay,” Paige lied, avoiding the name that seemed spelled out in the silence between them, the syllables colouring Charlotte’s every breath as though she longed to say it.

“Yeah, I uh, went with Becky, but it’s fine,” Charlotte replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “It’s really late, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“You’ve been crying,” Paige said, ignoring Charlotte’s question. There was a beat, then Charlotte crumpled, hot tears prickling the corners of her eyes and crystallising on her lashes like a bitter rain.Paige was there to catch her, gently sitting down beside her and pulling her into an embrace.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Charlotte sniffed, wiping away her tears.

“It clearly is if you’re here crying about it. Did something happen with Becky?” Paige asked the obvious question, and felt Charlotte’s tears redouble as the blonde rested her head on her chest.

“It’s just... it’s like somebody flipped a switch today,” Charlotte explained. “Like suddenly something’s changed. And it’s my fault, I know something HAS changed... and Paige, I think I’ve scared her off for good.”

“What do you mean sweetheart?” Paige said softly, brushing Charlotte’s hair out of her face. “You haven’t done anything wrong-”

“No no you don’t understand,” Charlotte interrupted. “The first time... the first time I knew I loved her. And she didn’t love me, but it was okay because I got to be close to her. And we agreed that we’d never catch feelings; I made that promise knowing I already had feelings.”

Paige paused to look at Charlotte quizzically.

“So she knocked you back but agreed to keep sleeping with you?” Paige asked, confused; that seemed a little fucked up, even for whatever Charlotte and Becky had going on.

“No. I never told her,” Charlotte said with a teary smile. “I fucked up, Paige.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah,” Charlotte said grimly. “Exactly.”

“Listen,” Paige said, taking Charlotte’s hands. “Let’s tan some champagne, get wrecked, and bitch about it. It’ll make you feel better.”

 

It did, as it turned out, help with Charlotte’s mood.

“And another thing,” Paige said angrily, trying to take a swig of champagne and spilling more down her front than she managed to actually get in her mouth. Charlotte’s condition was no better. “What business does she have not loving you anyway! You’re a fucking... dynamite... knockout! Bitch!”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Charlotte replied, affecting a faux-Southern Belle twang. “I’m just li’l old me.”

“Oh please,” Paige slurred, shoving Charlotte so aggressively that they both fell off the bed. “You’re dreamy as they come, and it’s not YOUR fault that she doesn’t want to be gay romance with you.”

“No no no it wasn’t ever supposed to BE gay romance,” Charlotte replied, furrowing her brow. Drunkenness had turned her slightly cross-eyed. “That part was MY fault.”

“Feelings are just another way to get yourself fucked up,” Paige said, with a lopsided shrug. “Everybody should just make out and fuck off the entire notion of relationships. Just have a good time.”

“Nahhhhh we love romance!” Charlotte cried, scrambling back onto the bed and reaching to refill her glass. Paige followed, taking the glass from her hands and gently setting it back onto the bedside table.

“But sometimes just making out is better,” Paige insisted. “Sometimes fun with no strings is all anybody needs. So long as it really is no strings.”

“Well apparently I can’t even do that right,” Charlotte chuckled darkly. Before she could even draw breath, Paige was kissing her, tasting of champagne and spearmint gum and bad decisions. Charlotte, even in her drunken state, felt crushing guilt and pulled away, and Paige shrugged.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” she said apologetically, wriggling out of her skinny jeans and climbing into bed. “Let’s go to sleep.”

Charlotte nodded, and got into bed, flicking off the lamp. As they lay in the dark, she felt Paige wrap her arms around her, and allowed herself to melt into the touch. Paige smelled of dragon’s blood incense, the soft powder of makeup, and comfort. She didn’t feel the way she did in Becky’s arms, but she felt safe, and that was enough for her to sleep without dreaming of the distance between her and the woman she loved.

 

Morning dawned cold on the empty side of Becky’s bed, and her heart ached. She felt awful; sending Charlotte away after she’d gotten what she wanted had hurt. Becky couldn’t say for sure, but she guessed that wasn’t a good sign. Friends-With-Benefits situations weren’t supposed to make you feel like you were literally tearing your heart out when you sent the other person away. She set her jaw and got out of bed, making a conscious note to apologise to Charlotte as soon as she saw her, though the memory of the hurt in Charlotte’s eyes when she’d sent her away made her stomach twist uncomfortably. Becky tried to avoid thinking about Charlotte as she went about her morning routine, regretting the absence of her partner in crime as she applied her makeup; getting ready with Charlotte was a ritual in itself, redressing all the soul they’d bared for each other. Her fingers fluttered over a bruise Charlotte left on her shoulder, sweet little crescents where she’d bitten her in a moment of scarlet passion. The kiss was imprinted there in bloody pinpricks and bruise, fading, painful to the touch. She wondered if somewhere, Charlotte was examining her own memories of Becky. Or perhaps she didn’t want to think about Becky at all.

Becky didn’t want to think about that. She tried to avoid thinking about anything at all as she packed, ready to ship out for the next show. There were clothes strewn all over the floor of her room, and she couldn’t remember where she’d put anything. Some of the clothes weren’t even hers, further pieces of Charlotte scattered like snow into her life. A bra -“Jesus fuckin’ Christ that’s definitely not mine”-, a t shirt, one lonely sock with an entirely absent partner, and a sweater that Charlotte has bought in the biggest size available so that wearing it would “feel like a hug”. Becky pulled the sweater on and sat on the bed for a moment; it did feel like a hug. It smelled of Charlotte, and felt heavy on her shoulders. Becky wanted to lie down, wrapped in the sweater, dreaming of Charlotte and mourning. But a schedule like hers didn’t allow for time to mourn; Becky stood up and returned to her efforts to pack up, rehearsing her apology to Charlotte in stoic silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> conflict resolution who? becky can’t read suddenly she doesn’t know. 
> 
> next update will be post-tlc probably. mentioned “the first time” in passing in this fic, i’m considering writing it as a flashback chapter or a one shot of its own. i’m not sure how many chapters this thing is gonna have but the trials are not over.
> 
> _You're the poet in my heart,  
>  Never change, never stop,  
> But now it's gone,  
> It doesn't matter what for,  
> But when you build your house;  
> Well, then call me home_

The soft triangle of sky peeping through the gap in the curtains was the colour of a champagne headache.

Paige propped herself up on an elbow, grimacing as she remembered she’d gone to bed with her makeup on. She almost fell out of bed with a start when noticed Charlotte beside her, lost in sleep. Of course. She’d come to comfort her. Carefully untangling herself, she made her way to the bathroom to investigate what options Charlotte had for removing makeup. Charlotte appeared behind her, yawning expansively.

“I’m gonna have a shower,” she said, stretching like a cat. “If you don’t mind waiting around, we can go grab some coffee and try to feel human again before we pack up.”

“That sounds like exactly what I need,” Paige smiled, politely looking the other way as Charlotte wriggled out of her clothes and got into the shower. Through the frosted glass door, Paige could see she was standing with her back under the flow.

“Still sore from the other day?” she asked delicately, peeling off her remaining false lash with a grimace. “No idea where my other lash is.”

“A little,” Charlotte confessed. “It’s on the bedside table, I woke up with it stuck to my boob.”

Paige snorted, wiping off her makeup and trying to ignore the flickering pain in her skull. Champagne was the devil’s nectar, she decided, crafted with no purpose other than to specifically victimise her right then in that moment.

“Hey Paige?” Charlotte called tentatively over the rush of water. “Thank you for coming by.”

“It’s no problem baby girl,” Paige replied. “Sorry we got so drunk.”

“Nah, we probably needed it,” Charlotte said, and Paige could hear the smile in her voice. “How did you know I needed some company?”

“Dunno, stuff between you and Becky just seemed a bit weird after breakfast, and when the entire corridor couldn’t hear both of you for most of the night, I figured you were probably spending your night alone,” Paige explained. Charlotte leaned out of the shower to flick water at her.

“We’re not that loud!”

“Oh honey, take it from me,“ Paige said, wiping droplets off her cheek. “You two are the talk of the breakfast table. It’s just that nobody realised it was well... both of you. Folks just assumed Becky had picked somebody up. How we never put two and two together, I’ll never know.”

Charlotte thought about that for a long moment. The idea of Becky “picking somebody up” made her clench her fists reflexively. Who was to say if it had always been Charlotte in Becky’s bed? She didn’t know what Becky got up to on the nights she wasn’t filling space between her sheets. The thought was too awful to bear. Her reverie was interrupted by the realisation Paige was talking again.

“I’m sorry I kissed you last night,” Paige was saying. “Wasn’t right for me to just do that and make you uncomfortable. I was just trying to prove a point.”

“It’s okay, really,” Charlotte replied. “I appreciate the apology. Still not sure what point you were making.”

“That you can do whatever you want, you don’t have to get caught up in feelings. You wanna kiss somebody? Kiss ‘em, fuck ‘em, pretend it never happened. You both get a little tension out, nobody gets hurt,” Paige shrugged. “You don’t have to fall in love with everybody who figures out how to make you come.”

“That’s shitty, Paige,” Charlotte responded, her voice quiet. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like, Char? Because it seems like you got into this knowing it would fuck you up,” Paige’s tone was sharp. “Yeah maybe she used you for sex, but you got into this knowing you were fucking yourself over. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“I know. I should never have let this happen,” Charlotte answered, still in the same restrained, quiet tone.

“You two need to talk. I’m sorry if I’m being a bitch, but there’s clearly a lot going on here and it’s not fair for either of you to leave shit the way it is,” Paige said. “I’m going back to my room to pack, but let me know if you need anything. Just don’t let this get in the way of your happiness. Or your job.”

Charlotte leaned back against the cold tileand sighed as the sound of Paige letting herself out echoed through the room. As harsh as Paige was, she was right. Tension with Becky was not a good idea, especially not right now. She owed it to her to talk things out.

 

When Charlotte knocked on Becky’s door, she could hear the redhead pause briefly on the other side before opening up. To her surprise, when Becky saw her, she enveloped her in a bear hug.

“Is that my sweater?”

“Yes,” Becky half sobbed, her face buried in Charlotte’s hair. She was armfuls of hot water steam and half asleep, a vision of morning, no make-up, blonde curls damp and drying in soft honey-coloured waves. As Becky ushered Charlotte inside, Charlotte barely had a moment to speak before Becky’s words bubbled up and spilled over.

“I’m so sorry for the other day,” Becky said, holding Charlotte’s hands and gazing at her with such fierce sincerity that Charlotte almost wanted to cry.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry if I got too much,” Charlotte replied. “I didn’t mean to scare you off I just really like you-“

“I don’t want to fuck up our friendship,” Becky murmured, reaching up to touch Charlotte’s face. “Let’s not fight, okay?”

“We’re gonna have to talk about this properly at some point,” Charlotte said, a quiet note of sadness in her voice. “We need to figure out where we stand.”

“I know, just... not right now,” Becky insisted, avoiding Charlotte’s eyes.

“Come on,” Charlotte said, grabbing Becky’s bag. “Let’s finish tidying up in here so we can get moving.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t get too excited the next chapter is angst hell
> 
> _Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart  
>  Severin, Severin, speak so slightly  
> Severin, down on your bended knee  
> Taste the whip, in love not given lightly  
> Taste the whip, now plead for me_

Charlotte groaned as she dropped her bag in Becky’s room, Becky propped up on an elbow on the bed next to her, watching her with a concerned expression.

“You took some fuckin’ bumps earlier, how’re you feelin’?” Becky asked.

“Like I’ve been put through a table, hit with a chair, and thrown from the top of a ladder. And hit with a kendo stick,” Charlotte replied drily, though she smiled wanly at Becky’s concern. “It’s fine, honestly. Nothing worse than usual, just a bit stiff after it.”

Becky sat up to embrace Charlotte from behind as she sat down on the edge of the bed, tracing a vague pattern on Charlotte’s back with her fingertip, carefully skirting the bruises.

“You were amazin’ you know,” she said softly, wriggling over to wrap her arms around her. “The whole thing was amazin’.”

“So were you,” Charlotte said quietly, taking Becky’s hand and kissing her knuckles.

“Can I touch you?” Becky asked, her voice somehow soft and gruff at the same time, her syllables catching around the lilt in her speech in that way that made Charlotte smile every time she heard her speak. “Just gently mind.”

“Touch me,” Charlotte breathed, and it was more of a command than permission. Becky obliged, slowly, painfully, easing Charlotte’s t-shirt up over her bust and off, gasping softly at the already flourishing bruises smattered across Charlotte’s back and shoulders, dark hydrangea flowers against her golden toned skin.

“Christ, you think I’d be used to this by now, but every time,” Becky said quietly. “I know you’re strong, but you bruise like a peach.”

Becky pressed a few soft kisses to Charlotte’s skin.

“I don’t mind the pain,” Charlotte said with a shrug of her broad shoulders, the ripple of muscle across her back as she did so leaving Becky open-mouthed in appreciation. Charlotte looked over her shoulder smugly at Becky’s reaction, and Becky felt her muscles clench involuntary at Charlotte’s smirk.

“You don’t mind it, or you kinda like it?” Becky asked boldly, trying to save face as she felt a flush creep up her chest.

“That’s for you to figure out,” Charlotte said, getting to her feet and wriggling out of her jeans. “Is it cool if I take a shower in here?”

“Only if I’m invited,” Becky deadpanned, already pulling her crop top over her head.

“You’re never not invited,” Charlotte purred, stretching emphatically as she crossed to the bathroom. Becky tried not to gasp aloud at the perfect lines of Charlotte’s body, and failed miserably, earning another over-the-shoulder smirk that made her feel both weak and ravenous at the same time. She followed Charlotte into the bathroom, almost tripping over her sweatpants in her haste to remove them. She reached out and unclipped Charlotte’s bra, sliding it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, her hands moving to cup the soft fullness of Charlotte’s breasts as she pressed her own chest against Charlotte’s back.

“At least wait until we’re in the shower; as tempting as it is to let you push me up against the wall and do everything you’re so clearly desperate to do to me, I do at least intend to get clean in the process,” Charlotte said, carefully taking Becky’s wrists and removing her hands from her chest. Becky huffed, but obliged just long enough to let them both clamber under the stream of hot water, Charlotte yelping as Becky slammed her against the cold tile wall. She barely had time to catch her breath before Becky was on her, her mouth kissing a path along her jawline and down her neck, pausing to nip sharply at her pulse point. Becky’s hands were rough, one kneading her with bruising aggression, the other roughly forcing her thighs apart.

“Becky yes,” Charlotte whispered, tilting her head back as Becky’s fingers found her. There was far less foreplay than usual, but Charlotte found herself enjoying this sudden, aggressive onslaught, though it was so different to their usual soft beginnings, where embraces just naturally turned into sex. She supposed in a way, the match had been its own foreplay; it had been bold to slap Becky across the face in front of a crowd, but Charlotte knew it likely played a large part in the desperation Becky had to undress her the moment they’d gotten back to the hotel. She squealed as Becky sunk her fingers inside her with no warning, the sudden sensation causing a tremor to ripple through her body that left her weak at the knees. Becky’s mouth was on her breasts, Charlotte’s hands were tangled in her hair, and she could feel her legs trembling as though they might give way as Becky fucked her. That was the only word Charlotte could think of for it; this wasn’t just sex, not like this, pinned against the wall, Becky looking her in the eye as she wrapped her fingers around Charlotte’s neck. This, Charlotte knew, as she gasped as Becky choked her, as she felt herself slip down the tiled wall, as Becky demanded that she come for her, this was being fucked. And she liked it.

 

After the shower, Becky took her to bed and held her, kissed all the places she’d abused, stroked every bruise with a loving caution that rose gooseflesh on Charlotte’s arms.

“Sorry if uh, that was a bit much,” Becky said sheepishly.

“No,” Charlotte said immediately, lacing her fingers through Becky’s. “I liked it. I like the aggression, being slapped around a little. It’s... never something anybody’s done for me before, but I don’t think I’d get off if it was anybody but you.”

Becky rolled over on top of Charlotte to kiss her.

“And would you like me to do it again?” Becky asked, dipping her head to whisper in Charlotte’s ear, tangling one of her hands in Charlotte’s hair and pulling. Charlotte moaned in a way Becky had never heard before.

“Yes, please,” Charlotte whispered. “Please... use me.”

Becky felt herself falter slightly. “Using” Charlotte was exactly what Paige had accused her of. Beneath her, Charlotte’s breaths stuttered with want, her chest heaving, her legs spread wantonly as she pressed herself against Becky. Becky wanted to use her. Fuck Paige and whatever she had to say about her and Charlotte, it was none of her business. She obliged, slipping her fingers into Charlotte once again, with difficulty.

“You are ridiculously tight,” Becky muttered, as Charlotte moaned with every stroke.

“I can’t help it,” Charlotte half-sobbed, half-laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life.”

Becky chuckled triumphantly, increasing the aggression of her thrusts as Charlotte’s moans increased in pitch and desperation until she was nearly howling an unintelligible string of syllables and trembling so much Becky was momentarily concerned for her wellbeing. She felt Charlotte come with such intensity that she could barely move her fingers inside of her, the heat of her unbearable. There was a beat where it seemed to quiet, then Charlotte arched her back and screamed Becky’s name so loudly Becky was fairly certain somebody would rush into their room any minute. Slowly, gently, Becky withdrew her fingers, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

“Huh, didn’t know girls could do that for real,” she remarked, moving to cradle Charlotte who looked as though she’d just communicated directly with God and was struggling to come to terms with it.

“Do what?” the blonde asked weakly, immediately crumpling into Becky’s arms in an exhausted heap.

“You gushed a little is all,” Becky replied, stroking her hair. “Always thought it was one of those porny myths.”

“Don’t worry,” Charlotte groaned. “I didn’t know I could do that either.”

They lay tangled in one another, panting, shaking, lost in the dissipating remnants of ecstasy. Becky hadn’t even been the “receiver”, and she was as contentedly exhausted as Charlotte, who was dozing off on her chest, utterly spent and lovely in the midst of her strangely elegant fatigue. Becky let herself drowse as she played with Charlotte’s hair.

“I love you, baby girl,” Becky whispered absentmindedly, her eyes closed. “You’re mine.”

“I love you too. I’m yours,” Charlotte replied sleepily. “Always yours.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _My dreams zoom with us  
>  My tears have run away  
> Our goal, goal collapsed  
> Energy of lonesome goal  
> May pushes, leaves and never feels  
> Shame casts offense  
> Shame casts her face  
> Star reason starring of the place_

“So let me get this straight,” Paige started incredulously. “Or, well, gay I guess.”

“Sexually ambiguous?” Becky suggested, looking up from her breakfast with mild interest. The other diners looked over with unguarded curiosity.

“You tell me, and her, that there are no feelings involved,” Paige said slowly. “Then after you make her soak your sheets you’re out here professing your love? Becky what the fuck is even going on between you two?”

“Since when did it have anything to do with you?”

“Since a) you two started keeping me up all night with your wailing and ‘oh Becky please! Harder! I’m yours!’” Paige mimicked Charlotte’s moans, and Becky stood up so quickly the other woman took a step back. “And b), she winds up crying on me when you won’t give her the time of day outside of the bedroom. You can’t fucking say you love her when she’s inside you, then take it all back as soon as you’re not coming into the palm of her hand.”

“You know what Paige, this isn’t a conversation for a public forum,” Becky said staunchly, setting her jaw. “I don’t care what anybody hears about me, but I don’t want you out here embarrassing Charlotte.”

“Me? Embarrassing Charlotte? You’re the one who keeps tricking her into thinking any of this means something, then dropping her as soon as something else catches your interests,” Paige shot back, but she lowered her voice all the same. “Some of us actually care about her. And it’s not just me, either. Charlotte has a lot of friends, and yeah, so do you, but none of us are about to let you fuck her around like this.”

“She knew when she got into this that it was a casual thing,” Becky said uncertainly, stepping back. “She knew that, she agreed.”

“That would be a fair argument if you didn’t say things like ‘I love you’ to her, Becky,” Paige replied, looking uncharacteristically incensed. “You can’t just say that and take it back. Stop hurting her because you can’t decide whether you’re too scared to love her properly or not.”

With that, Paige turned on her heel and left Becky standing alone, watching after her expressionlessly. It had been a few weeks since that night after TLC. The “I love you” had slipped out; Becky hadn’t even realised Charlotte was awake to hear it until she replied. The weeks had been good, until Charlotte had tentatively offered an “I love you” of her own, out of the blue as they sat on the hotel room balcony overlooking the city. Becky hadn’t been able to summon the courage to reply. Charlotte had smiled sadly, apologised for making things awkward, and left. She’d been avoiding Becky for three days, and Becky had been avoiding Paige, who seemed ever at the ready to dry Charlotte’s tears. It seemed she’d taken up the post as Charlotte’s personal shoulder to cry on, and Becky was most certainly in her bad books. The past few weeks had become almost predictable; Becky and Charlotte slept together, Becky pushed Charlotte away, Charlotte went into a dark melancholy, Paige went to comfort her, Becky argued with Paige, Paige argued with Charlotte because she couldn’t stop herself from defending Becky even in her most selfish moments - much to Paige’s chagrin- and Charlotte came back to Becky, content to be whatever Becky needed her to be until the next time she tried to bridge the emotional gap between them and was left out in the cold.

 

Within no time, the entire Smackdown women’s locker room could sense the tension between them; even Asuka had stopped Becky in a quiet moment in a corridor to tell her to “figure herself out”. Everybody seemed poised to assist, their concern alternating between offering comfort to Becky, or Charlotte, or Paige, and teasing whatever gossip they could out of each of the three women involved. It was not mean spirited, merely a welcome distraction from the occasionally exhausting demands of kayfabe and the rigorous schedule. A little on-the-job soap opera that wasn’t scripted was a breath of fresh air. Every time Paige and Becky crossed each other’s paths, another argument would bubble up between them.

“Why are you fucking her around like this?” Paige asked nonchalantly, leaning back in her chair with her legs crossed as they sat in the almost empty hotel gym together, Becky finishing up her workout as Paige sat by the side at a table and watched. “You either love her or you don’t. Just tell her.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Becky shot back indignantly. “And since when was it any of your fuckin’ business anyway?”

“You’ve already asked me that question, and the answer is still when she’s crying in my bed at 4am because you tossed her out like trash,” Paige retaliated. “You can’t string her along with a promise of seeing how stuff works out, then just try to bury all your problems between her thighs and send her home when you’re done, Becky.”

“She spend a lot of time in your bed then?” Becky asked, a flush rising to her cheeks. She ignored Paige’s comments; partially because she knew Paige was right, partially because she knew if she thought about it too hard she might sock Paige in the mouth.

“Only in your wildest dreams; I’m sure she’d let you watch if you asked,” Paige scoffed. “She’s there for comfort. We talk. Nothing else.”

“And since when was comforting Charlotte your mission?” Becky replied. “You want to fuck her. You can just say it.”

“So what if I do? That’s not why I’m kind to her. Unlike you, Becky, I can actually care about her as a person and not just want her for sex. I know that must be a foreign concept.”

Becky leaned forward, bracing her palms on the table to look at Paige directly.

“You wanna know what it’s like to fuck her?” she said in a dangerously soft voice. “It’s... heaven. She tastes of honey, and when you’re inside her, she feels like velvet. She purrs like a kitten over being kissed, you should hear the noises she makes when you give her more than that. She’s not just a lay. She’s a religious experience. I’d feel sorry for you that you’ll never experience it, but you don’t fuckin’ deserve her.”

“As much as I’m flattered that you want to share an excerpt from your erotic Charlotte fanfiction with me,” Paige replied, getting to her feet and beginning to walk away. “Charlotte is like visiting Paris. I’d rather experience the real thing than listen to other people talk about it. And I’m sure I will, when she gets bored of waiting for you to sort your shit out and finds somebody else to get her off without fucking with her head at the same time. ”

“Oh fuck off,” Becky exploded, kicking the chair with such force it tipped over. Paige didn’t reply, merely raising her arm above her head and giving the middle finger as she walked away. Paige was right; she couldn’t keep Charlotte at arm’s length emotionally, but grow possessive whenever anybody else picked up the slack she left behind. It always did come back to Charlotte, and yet when Becky and Paige clashed, Becky felt like they both fought for themselves, not for Charlotte. Becky let herself sink to the ground. Charlotte. She brought out the most of everything in Becky, the good and the bad, made her feel like she was lit up from the inside. She terrified her too, with her gentleness, with her open heart, with the quiet understanding in her eyes.

“I can’t keep fucking doing this,” Becky groaned.

“No,” said Asuka, emerging from the treadmills around the corner, where she’d no doubt heard everything. “You can’t.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Time casts a spell on you,  
>  but you won't forget me  
> I know I could have loved you,   
> but you would not let me_

It felt like Asuka was the only person Becky could talk to these days, keeping her company when they worked out together and checking in to see how she was doing with an almost motherly regularity. The Women’s Smackdown Champion was a light in the dark as Becky tried to find her way, company when Becky tried so hard to shut everybody out. Asuka was also the only person who didn’t mention Charlotte. As for Charlotte herself, Becky saw her for work and nothing else. When they were having their makeup done or spending time in the locker room, Charlotte barely seemed to notice she was there. Becky could tell she was hurt, badly, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Charlotte the truth; that she’d broken things off because she was scared. She wasn’t unsure of her feelings for Charlotte, she was unsure of what they meant, what they’d bring, if she could even live up to them. Charlotte made her chest feel so full it felt like she was drowning in salt water, tears close to the surface, a bright band of copper restricting every breath. She made her weak, and Becky didn’t like that. They’d let their blood sing too close, shown each other too much of themselves, and it had scared her. Becky knew what people could do when they had that power over you, that insight. And as much as she didn’t want to get hurt ever again, she especially didn’t want to get hurt by Charlotte; tawny-maned and seraphic, her smile like every good summer you’ve ever had, her arms open and her heart soft. No, Becky would rather hurt and pine from a distance than give somebody she loved so much as the chance to shatter every illusion she held about them. Charlotte could stay gold, and sad, and lovely, and she could stay alone in comfortable silence, in open conversation with herself and peaceful in her melancholy.

“You make yourself miserable,” Asuka pointed out one day as they trained together as usual. “You run away from being happy.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Becky responded, hating the words even as she said them. It felt like her stock response lately, like she was a toy with a pull-string, preprogrammed with seven unique sounds and phrases, sealed in plastic.

“I don’t think it is as complicated as you say,” Asuka said slowly, choosing her words carefully. “It seems more like you’re afraid.”

“Okay, I appreciate this whole impartin’ unbiased wisdom to me thing you’re tryin’ to do,” Becky replied. “But I just want everybody to leave it alone. Just go back to how things were. Nobody cared until Paige started makin’ a scene an-“

“No,” interrupted Asuka, shaking her head fiercely. “Nobody made a scene but you. You said things you can’t take back then ran away.”

“Why is it that everybody seems to think they have some kind of stake in anythin’ goin’ on between me and Charlotte anyway?”

“Because you hurt her,” Asuka said, placing a hand on Becky’s arm as reassurance. “Nobody was interested until you hurt our friend. And you’re hurt too. You can’t just wait for everything to go back to how it was, because it won’t. You need to talk to her.”

Becky groaned at length, both resenting and appreciating Asuka’s input simultaneously. She was deeply grateful for Asuka’s companionship; as much as she loved her friends and shared everything with them, both in and outside the ring, this wasn’t something she had wanted to share, and Asuka respected that. Asuka, Becky and Charlotte had gotten much closer in the run up to TLC, especially Asuka and Becky, and Becky appreciated the older woman’s guidance.

“I mean, we’ve both had our faces squished against Charlotte’s boobs, so you more than anybody can understand where I’m comin’ from,” Becky joked, jumping slightly as Asuka let out an abrupt burst of laughter; she was still getting used to Asuka’s sense of humour and her whip quick shifts between seriousness and tomfoolery.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about Charlotte,” suggested Asuka. “It just makes you sad. I have a better idea.”

“A better idea?” Becky asked quizzically.

“Yes,” Asuka said with a mischievous smile. “We go out drinking. Take your mind off everything. You’ll feel a lot better if you loosen up.”

“You know what?” Becky replied. “That sounds like it might just work.”

 

“That’s a lot of vodka,” Paige said appreciatively, looking at the selection of empty glasses before them. “We’ll drink ‘em out of business for the night if we’re not careful.”

The Smackdown girls didn’t often have a spare moment -or much inclination- to go out drinking, but considering the proximity of the holidays and the recent shakeups, it had felt almost necessary to go out and loosen up. Sonya had put away an impressive amount of sambucca and was still coherent, much to the awe of Mandy who had been trying to go toe to toe with her friend regarding liquor consumption and had served only to get herself drunk. Everybody was slightly tipsy, some more than others, and for the first time in a few weeks, the mood was good.

“It’s nice to see Charlotte a little more like her old self,” Naomi said to the table at large, and Charlotte blushed. “We’ve been worried about you.”

“Yeah,” chipped in Sonya, leaning in confidentially. “We missed your chirpy, kombucha-fuelled hyper episodes in training.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte replied, smiling a little at how warmly everybody looked at her, seeming almost to rally around her. “I guess I got in my own head about some personal stuff; I didn’t meant to let it ruin the mood.”

“You didn’t ruin the mood,” Billie assured her, reaching across to pat her arm.

“Let’s all just put it behind us and focus on partying for once, yeah?” said Carmella, raising her glass.

“I can drink to that,” Charlotte agreed, and let herself loosen up a little. Maybe a break from nothing but training and thinking about Becky would do her good.

 

“あかんで！何し天然お前！？” Asuka grabbed the back of Becky’s hoodie and hauled her back into her seat. “Are you stupid?!”

“Okay so first of all, I caught like NONE of that first part,” Becky said “Secondly, no, I just want everybody to stop acting like I’m not even here.”

She’d been eyeing the rest of the Smackdown women on the other side of the bar all night, studying them moodily over the rim of her glass. Naturally, Becky decided storming over to tell everybody to fuck off was the best possible course of action. Asuka disagreed.

“I think they might just not have noticed you,” Asuka shrugged. “They asked me if I wanted to come with them this morning.”

“Yeah and nobody asked me,” fumed Becky. “It’s not like Charlotte will drop down dead if we have to interact. We’ll survive sharin’ a social circle.”

Asuka let Becky go, and shrugged, draining her glass and getting up to follow Becky over.

“Ladies,” Becky acknowledged with a tilt of her chin, her eyes on Charlotte. “What a coincidence.”

There was a moment of quiet.

“Hey Becks,” Carmella chirped, shifting up to make room for Becky and Asuka. Tension broken, everybody else began greeting them and conversing as normal. Charlotte’s face was unreadable, impossibly lovely in the half-light, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks and she flicked her gaze downward to her drink and back up to meet Becky’s eyes.

“Haven’t seen you around,” Becky said pointedly.

“No,” Charlotte said, a slight smile quirking the corners of her lips. “You haven’t.”

“You always say you’re busy or tired whenever we ask you to hang out with all of us,” Billie complained.

“Eventually we just kind of... stopped asking,” supplied Peyton with a shrug. “We didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Becky quickly realised Asuka, who was suddenly very interested in the wood grain of the table, had tricked her into socialising. She groaned inwardly.

“Guess The Man needed some company besides herself,” Carmella added, pouting at Becky. “What are you guys drinking? I’ll get the next round.”

“You choose,” said Becky, leaning in close to Carmella and raising an eyebrow. “What do you think I’d like?”

“I’m bringing you soda if you keep being such a flirt,” Carmella said primly, used to Becky’s brand of banter, turning and almost bouncing away to the bar. With Carmella up at the bar, Becky was sitting right next to Charlotte. Becky felt her insides jolt as Charlotte slowly swept her gaze up her body, and met her eyes.

“You look good,” Charlotte said, raising one eyebrow appreciatively. Becky hadn’t exactly dressed up to go out, but who didn’t love a girl in a crop top and leather-look skinnies?

“I spend a lot more time in the gym and a lot less time eatin’ peanut butter cups when you’re not around,” Becky grinned, delighted that Charlotte had broken the ice. The space between them seemed to sizzle with electricity, a desperate magnetism. Charlotte herself looked amazing in grey silk, cut with an extremely low, plunging neckline. The killer heels were a given; she was statuesque and towering, all prismatic moonlight cut with clean lines and a bright edge. Beside her, Becky was the sun, flames licking at the sky, filth and fire and smoke. The world just seemed to push them together naturally, like they’d been made to fit into one another. Becky tried to remind herself that she was trying to make amends with Charlotte, but she struggled to keep her mind from wandering to the idea of unzipping Charlotte’s dress and letting it pool around her ankles, then taking her to bed and making the moonlight her own. Maybe she could even keep the heels on.

“Becky,” Carmella’s voice cut through Becky’s daydream. “I’ve been standing here waiting for you to move so I can sit my ass down for five minutes.”

“Sorry,” Becky replied, shifting up. She bumped into Charlotte as she did so, and felt the blonde reflexively tense, her sudden intake of breath a soft hiss. Becky thought about her sweet little gasps and moans and breaths and sighs, all those noises she couldn’t keep from making when Becky got brave and handsy in the elevator back to their room. Winding Charlotte up was one of Becky’s favourite hobbies; getting Charlotte wound up when she couldn’t do anything about it? Absolutely delightful.

“Jesus Christ Becky, I’m trying to talk to you,” Carmella groaned, shaking Becky by her shoulder. “Climb out of Charlotte’s cleavage and hang out with us.”

Becky tried to look nonchalant, but she could feel her face turning red. From that moment on, she made a concentrated effort to pay attention, but Charlotte made it very difficult. Charlotte herself was clearly as distracted by Becky. Eventually, when everybody got up to get more booze and left Sonya and Mandy manning the table, Becky grabbed Charlotte’s wrist and led her outside. The moment they cleared the door, Becky pushed her up against the wall, her hands finding her thighs through the silk, her mouth finding Charlotte’s in the dark. After a long kiss, Charlotte pulled away.

“Not here,” she said softly, sliding Becky’s hand out from under her skirt. She was trembling slightly; Becky knew Charlotte wanted to say yes, to let her push her up against the wall and kiss her, and yet here she was, pushing her away.

“Then come back to my room,” Becky said impatiently.

“Every time we’re together,” Charlotte said softly. “I give you another piece of me. And I know I’m not supposed to, and I know to you it’s just sex, by every time I give you more and more of me, all of me in fact. I don’t have anything left to give, Becky.”

“What are you sayin’?” Becky said, letting her hands fall from Charlotte as though she’d burned her.

“For once, Becky,” Charlotte said, pausing to draw a shuddering breath. “I’m saying no. I can’t keep hurting myself like this. You’re just... not somebody I can do the whole casual sex thing with. My bad for catching feelings, I guess. But I think it’s better we close the book on this.”

“But Charlotte, I-“ Becky started to say, faltering.

“You what, Becky? We both know you can’t say it, and if you did? I don’t know that I’d believe you meant it,” Charlotte answered coolly. “Maybe you mean it when we’re all tangled up and I’ve given you every part of me, and we’ve touched the spaces in between stars together, and we’ve cried and come and dreamt in each other’s arms. But I’m not confident that you’d mean it if you said it right now.”

Becky had nothing to say. She stepped back to let Charlotte head back inside, and followed at a slight delay. Her chest ached, and it ached because Charlotte was right; not that Becky wouldn’t have meant it, just that she wouldn’t have been able to say it. It didn’t matter how hard she tried, even face to face with Charlotte and clinging to the last possible hope of salvaging whatever any of this was, she couldn’t say it. The words felt like cracking open her rib cage and carefully spreading it wide, splaying her insides and inviting the world to trample upon them, right in the very heart of her. She paused on the threshold to rest her forehead against the cool wood of the doorframe and sigh. Of course this would happen. Who better to give your heart to than a woman who tears people apart for a living?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, next one will have a bit more going on and be a bit longer.
> 
> _Listen to the girl  
>  As she takes on half the world  
> Moving up and so alive  
> In her honey dripping beehive  
> Beehive  
> It's good, so good, it's so good  
> So good  
> Walking back to you  
> Is the hardest thing that  
> I can do  
> That I can do for you  
> For you_

It seemed to take a painfully long time for everybody to go their separate ways and head back to their rooms, the staff observing the women chatting in the hallway with growing irritation. Becky was notably absent; Charlotte supposed she had gone ahead. Once she had said her final goodnights, Charlotte had only one thing on her mind. She stopped by her room to drop her jacket on the bed and grab the spare key card to Becky’s room, pausing briefly to glimpse at herself in the mirror. She flushed a little; the alcohol has given her a rosy glow, her eyes bright, her lips kissed to a soft fullness. Her body ached, and the alcohol quivering through her system did nothing to allay the want that almost floored her with its intensity. She was about to leave when she heard somebody use their own spare key card to enter her room.

“Glad I caught you in time,” Paige said, roughly about as drunk as Charlotte but far less visibly intoxicated; Charlotte enviously noted that Paige did not get rosy cheeks no matter how much she drank. “You can’t go get Becky. You’ll be fucked up about it in the morning.”

“But I want-“

Paige let out and exasperated sigh and crossed the room in a few quick strides that entirely took Charlotte off guard. Charlotte let Paige push her backward onto the bed, let her kiss her, let her reach up her dress and carefully tug her panties off.

“Paige wait,” Charlotte breathed as Paige began to kiss her thighs.

“Do you want me to stop?” Paige asked, moving to release Charlotte.

“I- No. No I don’t want you to stop,” Charlotte replied, her voice trembling. She did; she didn’t. She wished she was Becky. She was glad she wasn’t Becky. In that instant, Charlotte couldn’t say what she wanted. Paige shrugged and moved to help her out of her dress, tossing the silk garment by the bed where it glimmered on the carpet like a discarded moonbeam. Charlotte lay back and let Paige kiss her, let her hands wander, let her touch her, and felt a strange combination of freedom and guilt. Paige felt good. Being touched felt good. She felt absolutely nothing romantically for Paige; this was a mutually beneficial meeting of two women who just needed to get some to prevent themselves from making stupid decisions. She didn’t feel like she was tearing her heart apart when Paige pinned her down and slowly spelt her name on her with the tip of her tongue, pausing to flash a vampish smile at Charlotte from between her thighs. She didn’t feel like she was leaving a piece of herself behind when she sat Paige on her lap with her back to her, and teased her until she came, biting her lip to try and keep from screaming. Guilt, however, was a different matter; it seemed to crouch on her chest, crushing, tiger-faced.

“God, Becky wasn’t kidding when she said you were noisy,” sighed Paige, as she pushed Charlotte’s face into the pillow to try and muffle her, her fist knotted in Charlotte’s blonde hair holding her down as she used her other hand to fuck her from behind with such aggression that Charlotte had slumped forward onto her arms. As Charlotte quivered through the last frissons of orgasm, Paige gently withdrew her fingers, wiped them on the sheet and got up.

“Thanks babe,” she said brightly, winking at Charlotte as she redressed herself. “That was fun.”

“It was,” Charlotte replied, still slightly dazed.

“Welcome to casual sex that is actually casual,” Paige quipped as she grabbed her room key card and jacket. “If you need me again, you know where to find me.”

Charlotte nodded as best she could, face down in the pillow whilst her whole body seemed to buzz from every pore in every bone.

Paige took that as a goodnight and left, softly closing the door behind her and walking back down the hallway with a slight spring in her step. Had she been a different type of person, she might have stopped by Becky’s room to gloat, but at that moment her main concern was bed.

Charlotte rolled over to lie on her back. The sex had been good, her body was tired, her brain was tired, but something in her was keeping her awake. She tried not to think of how hurt Becky would be. She tried not to think of Becky at all.

Just as she began to doze off, she heard another soft knock at the door. Figuring Paige had forgotten something, she got up to let her in only to come face to face with Becky, who was the drunkest Charlotte had ever seen her. Charlotte asked no questions, stepping aside to let Becky come in and immediately lie facedown on the bed.

“Sambucca,” Becky groaned. “Me’n’ Sonya ‘n’... couple of people kept drinkin’.”

“How are you feeling?” Charlotte asked tentatively. By way of response, Becky got to her feet, staggered to the bathroom and vomited. To Charlotte’s relief, it was at least in, on and around the toilet. Charlotte cautiously followed her and swept her bright hair out of her face with one hand, rubbing her back with the other.

“Christ Becky... you can really put it away, I’d hate to think how much you had to drink to get into this state,” murmured Charlotte, trying to clean Becky up as much as possible. Becky simply cried, wailing that her stomach hurt and she wanted to stop throwing up. She did not stop throwing up.

Eventually, Becky seemed to have exhausted her body’s supply of vomit, and Charlotte carefully undressed her and pushed her into the shower cubicle. Becky stood under the stream miserably, frozen, like a dog in a raincoat. Charlotte made short work of cleaning up the bathroom before leaning into help Becky wash herself off. Becky hiccuped petulantly the entire time.

“Come on babe,” Charlotte said softly, helping her out of the shower. “I’ve got some fluffy pyjamas and a space in my bed with your name on it.”

True to form, Charlotte helped Becky into a pair of very soft, plush pyjamas and tucked her into bed, climbing in on the other side. Becky immediately wriggled over and curled up against her, resting her head on her chest and looping her arms around her.

“Thank you for always takin’ care of me,” Becky whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“What for? It’s okay, everybody gets a little messy sometimes,” Charlotte replied with a sleepy smile, not even minding that Becky’s wet hair was soaking her shirt and pillow uncomfortably.

“No,” Becky said, shaking her head fiercely but immediately stopping when a familiar wave of nausea crashed over her. “I mean for everythin’.”

“Oh,” Charlotte murmured. “I’m sorry too.”

They lay in the quiet dark for some time, so long that Charlotte thought Becky had dozed off.

“I will say it, you know,” Becky whispered. “I just want to be sure you believe me when I do.”

Charlotte nodded mutely, the feeling of Paige still lingering on her skin. Regret coiled around her, and she felt tears spill over onto her cheeks. She should’ve known this would happen. Part of her was angry at Becky for letting her down, but she was mostly angry at herself. She didn’t need to sleep with Paige, and in those moments before Paige had intervened, she had been willing to use Becky in exactly the fashion she’d criticised Becky for using her. Guiltily, she drew Becky a little closer.

“Becky,” Charlotte tried cautiously. “What are we?”

“You’re not that drunk,” Becky mumbled, her face smashed into Charlotte’s bust. “Human bein’s.”

“Smartass,” Charlotte sighed, exasperated. “I meant in terms of us, me and you. Our... arrangement.”

“I’m too drunk for questions like that,” Becky groaned. “Best friends. We’ll figure out the rest when we’re sober.”

Charlotte nodded. Best friends was good enough for now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Spinning on that dizzy edge  
>  Kissed her face and kissed her head  
> Dreamed of all the different ways, I had to make her glow  
> Why are you so far away she said  
> Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?  
> That I'm in love with you?_

“I want to die,” Becky announced to the room at large as she sat down with Charlotte, Paige, Asuka and Naomi to order brunch. She was clearly still drunk.

“That’s what sambucca does to a person,” Paige replied, pointing at Becky with her fork. “We did warn you.”

“I was sad,” Becky said defensively.

“About?” prompted Naomi.

“Love,” Paige supplied with an eye roll. Charlotte kicked her under the table. Paige didn’t get to make those kinds of wisecracks when she’d gotten tangled in Charlotte’s sheets the night before.

“I’m not even gonna ask,” Naomi responded, returning to her pancakes with raised eyebrows.

“You ever been in love,” Becky began, ignoring Naomi’s words. “But the kind where it makes your whole body hurt? And because it hurts so bad already, you can’t make yourself take the risk.”

“Becks,” Naomi interrupted conversationally. “I’m married. The whole love thing isn’t news to me.”

“Fair,” Becky replied with a thoughtful shrug. “Anyway enough about me, somebody chuck me a menu, otherwise I’ll start dismemberin’ Paige and curing the bits to make goth bacon.”

“Fuck off,” Paige pouted. “Charlotte, put your bitch on a leash.”

Charlotte snorted into her coffee. Becky threw a handful of sugar packets at Paige, who responded by throwing a menu at Becky with such aggression it bounced off her forehead. Charlotte might’ve worried there was tension between the two if it was anybody else, but she knew her two friends well enough to know that the idiocy came naturally. And Becky didn’t know about Paige; the longer it stayed that way, the better. She made a mental note to waylay Paige and swear her to a vow of silence at some point when Becky wasn’t around. Paige was trustworthy and genuinely cared about her friends; she wouldn’t hurt Charlotte or Becky on purpose, Charlotte knew. She was more worried about “accidents”. Regardless of her and Becky’s situation, Becky would see her being with Paige as a betrayal, even if it meant nothing. Hell, Charlotte herself saw it as a betrayal, and her and Becky weren’t even in a relationship, let alone exclusive. She was thrown off her train of thought by Becky’s insistent elbow in her ribs.

“We’ve got as much of a day off as we’re gonna get,” Becky was saying. “Wanna hang out?”

“When do I ever not wanna hang out with you?” Charlotte replied, trying not to sound too pleased that Becky wanted to spend time with her. If there was one thing Charlotte could give Becky credit for, it was refusing to let a situation stay awkward; after their conversation the previous night, somebody else might’ve been cold or kept their distance, but not Becky. She bounced right back; relentless.Charlotte did not notice the way Paige watched them both, a strange expression on her lovely face.

 

Paige stopped Charlotte on the stairs as she headed back to her room to change into something more suitable than her morning workout gear for going out for a walk with Becky.

“Are you going to tell her?” Charlotte asked immediately.

“No,” said Paige, looking strangely soulful in her disappointment. “But I think you should. It means nothing to me either way; we got what we wanted, we don’t need to mention it ever again. But you know how she’ll be about it.”

“I know exactly how she’ll be, and that’s why neither of us should say anything,” Charlotte replied in an undertone, stepping slightly closer to Paige to avoid being overheard.

“I think... if you’re as serious about this as she thinks you are, and as I think you are? You shouldn’t start this shit with secrets,” Paige hissed as another guest hurried past. The two women glanced around furtively, as if afraid Becky would fall out of a cupboard or emerge from behind a curtain at any moment. Charlotte had no real response and instead settled for shaking her head.

“You know what? I don’t see what it has to do with you anyway,” she snapped, raising a perfectly manicured hand to stop Paige from responding. She turned and strode away, her jaw set, leaving Paige shrugging darkly in her wake.

 

The horizon seemed to catch at the edge; at first, with a guttering flame, then to blaze in a wide arc, sweet-cream clouds disintegrating against the sunset fire. The sea was all poured night sky caught alight beneath a riotous empyrean, the sun bidding a farewell so grand one might be forgiven for imagining it to be its last. Becky picked her way cautiously across the pebbles and pale scatterings of seashell shrapnel, reaching a hand out to Charlotte to lead her closer to the gently lapping tides, the seafoam breaking peach against the antiqued sand, dark gold as night fell.

“I was scared we’d be too late,” Becky said in a hushed voice, as though the thin streamers of stacked cloud were the hundreds of pages of library books, ancient as dust, fluttering against a quiet sky. “Didn’t wanna miss the sunset.”

Charlotte looked away to hide the sudden colour rising to her cheeks, and the shy smile she hated for betraying her heart. Still, she allowed Becky to help her seat herself on a large rock that offered a wonderful vantage point from which to view the pale crescent of the beach meeting the wildfire sky, bleeding into one another with the tide. Becky climbed up beside her and slipped her arm around her waist.

“S’not as good as the ones back home of course,” Becky said, gesturing widely at the sky. “But unlike back home, it’s not fuckin’ freezin’ which is definitely an improvement.”

Charlotte let herself relax into Becky and rested her head on her shoulder. Her heart was racing; Becky had really brought her all the way out here to watch the sunset with her. She wanted to let herself melt, to let Becky in, to forget about all of the hurt and the hesitation.

“I’d like to take you home with me sometime,” Becky continued, unabashed by Charlotte’s silence. “‘S beautiful,I think you’d like it. And I could show you all the local colour and daft stuff tourists love.”

“I’d love that,” Charlotte said softly, looking up at Becky through her lashes, her lips slightly parted as she took in all the wonder that was Becky in the half-light. Her hair almost seemed to glow, whipped to a wild mane by the soft breeze, and the vermillion light turned her golden skin rosy bronze. Her dark eyes were far away and full of something lovely and mysterious all at once, that determined line of her jaw set as though her words were a promise as she told Charlotte tales of back home.

“You a little distracted?” Becky laughed, dipping to kiss Charlotte once, briefly. When she pulled away Charlotte found herself disappointed.

“You’re so beautiful,” Charlotte breathed, reaching up to touch Becky’s cheek. Becky took her hand and kissed her fingers.

“You’re more beautiful than all the sunsets in all the skies all at once,” Becky replied with a soft smile.

“Not everything is a competition,” Charlotte joked, leaning in closer as Becky embraced her. Her heart was pounding. The way Becky was looking at her made her whole body feel as though it was featherlight and about to dissolve into nothingness.

“Charlotte, I-“ Becky began, before letting out a quiet noise of surprise. “Tide’s in, let me get you down.”

They had been so distracted they hadn’t noticed the tide had risen and was lapping at their rock insistently. Becky helped Charlotte down, gingerly leading her around the water.

“Wait, what were you gonna say?” prodded Charlotte in frustration.

“The moment’s passed,” Becky grinned. “Perhaps we’ll never know.”

Charlotte shoved Becky playfully, but immediately regretted it as Becky lost her footing and splashed into the surf.

“Oh shit I’m sorry!” Charlotte exclaimed immediately moving to help Becky, who grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her into the water.

“Now we’re even!” Becky said over Charlotte’s squeal of protest. There was barely a moment for her to breathe before Charlotte barrelled into her and knocked her flat on her back, pinning her by her wrists as the water rushed around them. They were soaked.

“You are the worst,” Charlotte told Becky, trying not to laugh as Becky struggled to release herself from her grip. Becky pushed upward and met Charlotte in a kiss; Charlotte immediately reciprocated, relaxing and allowing Becky to roll them over, letting the tide crash over their tangled bodies as Becky kissed her way down Charlotte’s neck and slipped her hand into her jeans.

“Becky no! We’re in public!” Charlotte hissed, stifling a moan as Becky’s fingers found her, her hips jerking in involuntary response to the touch.

“Nobody’s around,” Becky whispered. “You just... look so beautiful. Like a mermaid or somethin’.”

Becky wasn’t wrong; in the twilight, with her pale hair all spread around her as she lay on the sand in the lapping tide, her clothes dark and clinging where the seawater soaked them, Charlotte looked ethereal. The cold night air bit at her wet clothes however, and she shivered a little, seeming to break Becky’s trance.

“I’m takin’ you back to my room,” Becky said with a sudden change of heart, helping Charlotte up. They were both soaked and covered in sand. “I don’t want you to get a cold.”

“What a gentleman,” Charlotte replied sarcastically, shivering all the while, though she let Becky begin leading her back up the beach. With every step across the sand, a thought looped in the back of her mind: what had Becky been planning to say?

 

Being back in Becky’s bed was Charlotte’s favourite; they had showered together, Becky had gotten room service supper, and now they were both tangled in one another under the huge, pillowy embrace of the duvet. Charlotte was so tired and content, she was dozing in Becky’s arms.

“Hey,” Becky said tentatively. “I had a nice time tonight.”

“I had a lovely time,” Charlotte replied. “Thank you Becky.”

“Do you wanna hang out again tomorrow?”

“Always,” Charlotte smiled, looking up at Becky and wriggling closer. They lay in comfortable silence. Charlotte was not thinking about Paige, about her hurt, about work. She was just in the moment, half asleep, letting Becky’s words fall over her like a quiet snow.

“Hey Charlotte,” Becky said, clearing her throat a little. “You know I haven’t been with anybody else the whole time we’ve been uh... seein’ each other?”

“Am I that good?” Charlotte teased, but to her surprise Becky didn’t even offer a smile. Charlotte shifted nervously; what if Becky asked about Paige?

“Charlotte,” Becky tried again. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend? Like... for real for real. Exclusive like, not just shiftin’.”

Charlotte almost fell off the bed.

“I’d love that,” Charlotte breathed, sitting up and turning to look at Becky. “Do you mean it?”

“Yeah,” Becky shrugged. “I just wanna be yours.”

Charlotte threw her arms around her, and Becky dissolved into how soft and perfect the moment was, lying together in a hotel bedroom, full of room service ice cream and romantic notions. They seemed to fit together, no matter who was where; Charlotte had never felt like she fit with anybody. She felt too big, too tall, never quite the right shape to find somebody who had space for her contours. And yet, Becky was here, all red hair and Irish wit, and she fitted into Charlotte like they never should have been apart. In Becky’s arms, things just seemed right.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you want to Interact you can get me over on tumblr at tables-ladders-flair.
> 
> next chapter is gonna be explicit so if ur skipping the sex and just want the story, bear that in mind.
> 
> _I know you better than this  
>  I could be here when you call  
> I'll make you top of the list  
> And in the crash of the dark  
> I'll be your light in the mist  
> I can see you burning with desire for a kiss  
> Psychobabble all upon your lips_

“Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte,” Paige sighed, leaning forward to scoop some cream off Charlotte’s hot chocolate with her fingertip. “Why do you do these things to yourself?”

“I think it’s good, Paige,” Charlotte replied defensively, moving her drink out of Paige’s reach and trying to suppress a smile. “She’s making a commitment. She’s taking this seriously. You know she hadn’t even looked at anybody else the whole time we uh... had our thing?”

“Unlike you,” Paige pointed out, leaning back in her chair and biting her lip with feigned regret. “Now you two are _girlfriend_ girlfriends, are you gonna miss me?”

“Don’t be a bitch, Paige,” Charlotte said quietly, sipping her hot chocolate and refusing to acknowledge Paige’s allusion to their night together. “I’m so grateful to you for being there for me, and for looking out for me, really, but please give her a chance. And once she gets here, you need to be nice.”

Becky and Charlotte had been official for a couple of months, but had only recently decided to share that fact with their friends and colleagues. Becky still hadn’t said the three magic words, but Charlotte didn’t mind as much as she thought she would’ve; little by little, she could feel Becky’s walls coming down.

“Look, neither of us are exactly amazing at the whole relationships thing,” Paige responded. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Again. You’re too romantic, Charlotte. You fall too hard, too fast, and then people let you down when they can’t love you as much as you love them.”

“It’s not gonna be like that,” Charlotte said, shaking her head. “This time, it just feels right. She makes me feel like this time is different.”

“I’m sure she makes you feel a lot of things,” Paige purred. “If you two ever feel a little experimental, you know where to find me.”

“Paige!” Charlotte yelped, appalled, almost spilling hot chocolate down her front. “Dirty! Dirty girl!”

“Oh come ON, don’t sit there pretending to be a virgin Charlotte Flair, we both know why you two even got together in the first place,” Paige cackled, passing Charlotte a napkin. “You’re both thirsty as hell, I get it. And you’re a tall drink of water.”

“Are you making weak jokes about my sex life based around thirst, because that’s a reach even for you,” Charlotte replied, blushing furiously.

“Is that a no to the threesome then?”

“Ask Becky,” Charlotte said slyly, and the two women dissolved into giggles. “Come on, it’s like... brunch. Too early for these kinds of racy propositions.”

“Brunch? Didn’t you just have breakfast?” Paige replied, forever in awe of Charlotte’s ability to put away insane amounts of food and keep her body absolutely perfect. In fact, it felt like they spent all their time eating together; it was when they had a moment to relax, the most social part of their day. Besides, Charlotte was nearly impossible to get a hold of any other time; if she wasn’t eating, she was working, working out, or with Becky.

“Again,” Charlotte said, raising her eyebrows mischievously. “Ask Becky.”

“Now who’s dirty,” Paige said with a smirk, shoving Charlotte playfully. “I’m proud of you. Girls for breakfast, chocolate for brunch, I hope it’s a champagne lunch.”

“Please, it’s like you want me to have a lil champagne pot belly,” Charlotte groaned. “I need to stop eating so much trash.”

“It doesn’t help when Paige insists on ridiculous pancake houses for breakfast,” remarked Bayley, taking a seat beside them with a latte. Nattie joined them on the other side, sipping a smoothie with a straw. Being with Raw, Nattie and Bayley didn’t get to spend as much time with their friends over in Smackdown as they’d like; they were busy enough women without the added complication of clashing work schedules.

“Ugh I missed you guys,” Paige whined, leaning over to hug Nattie and Bayley in turn as Charlotte followed suit.

“Thanks for asking to come hang out,” Bayley chirped. “We almost thought you’d forgotten about us.”

“And Paige promised spicy gossip,” Nattie added quickly, looking between the two women expectantly.

“Becky and Charlotte are dating,” Paige said immediately, ducking for cover as Charlotte cuffed her across the back of the head.

“Paige I swear to god-“ Charlotte began.

“Nice,” Bayley remarked, raising her hand for a high five. Grudgingly, Charlotte obliged.

“I’m not gonna pretend I didn’t see it coming,” Nattie said. “I’ve been trying to shove you two together since god knows when.”

“I didn’t expect you guys to be so understanding,” Charlotte admitted.

“You’re always crazy understanding when any of us come to you to talk about our Tinder dates and aching hearts. It’d be hypocritical if we weren’t,” Nattie shrugged, placing a comforting hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “Anyway, I’m eyeing up those blueberry muffins, the ones with the toasted oats on top; anybody wanna split one with me?”

“Becky says she’ll split it,” Bayley replied looking up from her phone briefly.

“Wait what?” Charlotte, asked confused.

“Oh I’m chatting to Becky on Facebook” Bayley replied. “She’s been lighting up the group chat about you for weeks, we wanted to celebrate you two making it official, but she said you guys have something planned for tonight.”

“It’s news to me,” Charlotte shrugged, her heart racing. What had Becky planned? “Ask her why she wasn’t here for half eleven like she promised.”

“She says to tell you not to be bratty,” grinned Bayley.

“Ooh will she put you over her knee?” Paige asked, sarcastically scandalised whilst Charlotte rubbed her temples and tried not to think too hard about being spanked. It was brunch, after all. A civilised affair; not the time to be thinking about spanking. That was post-lunch contemplation at the very least. Thankfully, she was distracted by a sudden elbow to the ribs from Paige who gestured toward the door as Becky entered. Charlotte felt herself gasp, her breath hitching in her chest as Becky billowed in like so many stray strands of sunlight, wound together and wind-whipped into a woman. She wore no make-up, her hair a cloud of wild curls, and Charlotte was floored. Every time she looked at Becky was like the first time all over again, that moment of losing all sense of where she was or what she was thinking about.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor,” Nattie quipped, setting her muffin down on the table and moving to fetch Becky a seat. Becky sat down next to Charlotte and immediately laced her fingers through hers. She leaned in to kiss Charlotte’s cheek.

“Good mornin’ baby,” she whispered as her lips grazed Charlotte’s jaw, her voice deliciously husky. “I missed you.”

“Ughhh save it,” Paige groaned, rolling her eyes, as Charlotte shivered a little at Becky’s touch, leaning to rest her head on Becky’s shoulder. She was much taller, but with Becky it somehow wasn’t awkward. It was like she’d felt so many times before; they just seemed to fit.

“You two are so cute together,” Bayley gushed. “And in the ring, you totally still keep the whole feud going, it’s amazing to watch.”

“Gotta be professional,” Becky shrugged, before giving Charlotte a little shrug. “Daddy’s girl.”

“Which daddy?” Paige questioned airily, cackling as Charlotte hid her face in Becky’s shoulder.

“Telling Paige was the worst mistake either of you have ever made,” Nattie said conversationally.

“Does The Man wish for a caffeinated beverage?” Charlotte asked, pushing her hair out her eyes and getting to her feet, trying to pretend that she didn’t want the ground to swallow her up. Paige always knew just what to say to make her blush; it was part of why they were such good friends. They could push each other’s buttons and bicker like nobody’s business, but ultimately, they knew each other so well that any ill feeling never lasted.

“The Man would like an almond milk latte with an extra shot,” Becky advised grandly, and Charlotte nodded and went to fetch her order.

“Tell. Me. Everything,” Nattie demanded, leaning across the table with bright eyes, Bayley nodding enthusiastically.

“You guys are so cute together, we’ve been dying for this happen for EVER,” Bayley added. “I was entirely shipping you two, by the way.”

“They’ve been fucking for ages,” Paige added, clearly delighted that she had some info Nattie and Bayley were not privy to.

“I didn’t expect Charlotte to be that kind of girl,” Nattie said with raised eyebrows.

“I like to think it’s specifically a trait I bring out in her,” Becky said gruffly, embarrassed by the direction of the conversation. Charlotte was making her way back with her coffee.

“We were just discussing the wedding,” Paige joked, though immediately reassured Charlotte she was kidding when she saw all the colour leave both her and Becky’s face.

“How’re you two feeling about your match later this week?” Bayley asked, picking at the muffin on Nattie’s plate. “Now that you’re officially dating?”

“Well we’re not goin’ public,” Becky said with a shrug. “It’s our business. So nothin’ is gonna change in the ring.”

“We’ll do what we always do; put on a good show,” Charlotte told Bayley with a winning smile; there was something fun about feuding with the woman she loved, especially when Becky was just so good at staying in kayfabe and really riling the fans up. The actual match was a little more complicated; she wanted to be careful with Becky, and she knew Becky was hesitant to hurt her. However they knew each other’s moves and styles so well that they could intricately choreograph a good fight without really doing much damage beyond the bumps and bruises that came with the sport.

“Then kiss and make up,” Becky added.

“Is that code for fuck like rabbits and keep me awake all night again? I always hope the matches will tire you out, and they never do,” Paige said, stretching lazily as Charlotte turned crimson. “We need to stop rooming in the same hallway.”

“Considerin’ how often you let yourself in to borrow my clothes, I reckon you pay the price for access to my wardrobe,” Becky answered, unruffled by Paige’s blue remarks.

“I’m excited to see this next match now I know that my OTP is reality,” Bayley said, wriggling in her seat with excitement.

“Your what?”

“Don’t ask,” Nattie interrupted wearily as Bayley enthusiastically began to explain.

Charlotte rested her head on Becky’s shoulder with a shy smile. She hadn’t expected so much love an acceptance from their friends. In all honesty, she’d expected to be told it was a bad idea, it was unprofessional, it was just asking for a broken heart. Maybe it was all of those things, but as Becky reached over to play with her hair, Charlotte didn’t care; she felt peaceful.

 

Charlotte shifted nervously in the passenger seat, looking out at the rapidly darkening skyline with apprehension. Small pinpricks of light began to glow amongst the city silhouette, challenging the oppressive blanket of night with a relentless sleeplessness that spoke of adventure and sharing cigarettes blind drunk outside of a club, or wandering hands on a vintage velvet sofa in a stranger’s apartment, or sitting on the roof and telling one’s secrets.

“Relax babe,” Becky said, taking one hand off the wheel to comfort Charlotte. “I’m taking you somewhere nice.”

“It always makes me nervous when you won’t tell me where we’re going,” Charlotte replied with a smile, squeezing Becky’s hand. “Your surprises have varying levels of success.”

“You’ll like it, I promise,” Becky reassured her, taking her eyes off the road to flash Charlotte a smile. “And if you don’t? Then we’ll go wherever you want instead.”

“It feels like we’re running away together,” Charlotte murmured, resting her head against the cool glass of the window, watching as they travelled away from the densely packed city streets, the houses growing further and further apart the greater distance they put between themselves and the city.

“Maybe we are,” Becky shrugged. “Give ourselves a little privacy.”

Charlotte nodded, and let Becky drive in comfortable quiet, the soft buzz of the radio gentle background noise to her thoughts. Becky tried to calm herself down. The urge to turn the car around, take Charlotte home and kiss her into forgetting this whole stupid idea was powerful, but something in her told her to keep going. As the suburbs gave way to countryside, Becky felt herself relax. Having spent so much time in America, she thought she might’ve eventually gotten used to just how far one had to go to escape the city, but she had never quite adjusted. Unlike back home, you couldn’t just drive fifteen minutes out of town and be in amongst the green fields and winding roads, you really had to make it your mission to find somewhere quiet. Becky’s love of going for a drive to clear her head had led to the discovery of a number of great places on her journeys, including neat little dive bars that did amazing wings in the middle of nowhere, to the most beautiful places to get a view of the night sky. That night, the latter was her destination. She pulled into a parking lot at the foot of a nature trail, and gestured to the dark outline of the forest.

“We’ve got to hoof it from here,” she said apologetically, getting out of the car and moving to open the door for Charlotte.

“Is this why you made me promise not to wear heels?” Charlotte asked, too intrigued to be put off by the concept of wandering the woods late at night.

“This is exactly why,” Becky said, locking the car behind her and taking Charlotte’s hand. “I hope you’re not scared of the dark.”

“I couldn’t be afraid of anything with The Man on my side,” Charlotte replied, dimpling as she smiled at Becky’s smug expression. “You look so pleased with yourself.”

“I’ve got a girlfriend most folks would crawl naked through miles of broken glass to breathe the same air as. Who wouldn’t be pleased with themselves with a stunnin’ blonde on their arm?” Becky said with a grin, leading Charlotte onto the trail. “Moon should be out by the time we get up there.”

“I swear to god Becky, if we get eaten by mountain lions my dad is gonna be so pissed at you,” Charlotte said in an undertone, shivering slightly as the shadows of the trees closed overhead and shut out the soft glow of the sky.

“Nah, he’ll be too excited about gettin’ all your robes in the will to be upset with me,” Becky joked, laughing at Charlotte as she moved closer at the sound of twigs snapping. “Stop bein’ so jumpy, it’s us you can hear. No mountain lions. Promise.”

Charlotte decided to take Becky’s word for it.

“I trust you,” she breathed, tightening her grip on Becky’s hand as the redhead led her deeper into the dark.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter after this is pure smut peppered with angst, and is literally just filth, so feel free to skip this chapter and the next one if you’re avoiding the sex scenes.
> 
>   _Over and over  
>  Many setting suns  
> I have run  
> I have waited for the rain to come  
> When through that mist  
> I see the shape of you  
> And I know, and I know  
> That I'm in love with you_

The lapis sky seemed almost to yawn, so vast that, for once, Charlotte felt very small. It arced on forever, heaven as envisioned in a painting, every star picked out in white, tiny wild blossoms against the interminable blue. Around them, the grass was carpeted with real wildflowers, their colours muted to silver by the moonlight, sweet nightblooms, ethereal as fallen stars. Charlotte didn’t even mind that the ground was slightly damp; sitting amongst the flowers with Becky was magical. Charlotte watched as Becky clearly prepared to say something, her hands trembling slightly with nerves.

“Hey,” Charlotte whispered, leaning over. “It’s just me. Don’t stress.”

She paused for a moment, to look at Becky, all silver in the moonlight but for her amber eyes, and leaned in to kiss her.

“I decided that when I was gonna tell you I love you, I wanted all the stars to witness it,” Becky said softly as they broke the kiss. “I wanted to say it in front of all the sky, and I wanted to say it somewhere beautiful. I love you, Charlotte. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

The words fell like soft rain; saying it was as terrifying as it was liberating, and Becky found once she started she didn’t want to stop.

“I love you too,” Charlotte whispered, her voice cracking as she started to cry. “I love you so much. I just... Jesus Christ Becky, you know how weak I am for romance.”

“Exactly,” Becky grinned, kissing Charlotte’s cheeks to stem the tears. When Charlotte kissed her again, her lips tasted of a wild salt, of an ocean she’d wept in all the moments in between when she hadn’t been in Becky’s arms, and all the times she had. It didn’t matter that she had to dip a little lower to reach Becky to kiss her; as they kissed on the hillside in the moonlight, nothing had ever felt more perfect. Charlotte let Becky push her over backward, allowing herself to fall into the mess of flowers and let the dew pearl in her hair like tears, Becky a vision above her like the breaking dawn. She reclined, languorous as a moon-gazing youth, as Becky laced their fingers together. Charlotte briefly wondered if she was going to get bugs in her hair, but Becky clearly interpreted it as a dreamy, faraway look, as she bent to kiss the very tip of Charlotte’s nose.

“God, you’re really just the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Becky whispered, grazing a kiss against Charlotte’s cheekbone, and following the soft contour of her face to kiss upward and onto her forehead, gently, lovingly.

“Are mirrors not a thing in Ireland?” Charlotte teased, sighing softly into Becky’s touch.

“You’d take me seriously if you could see yourself right now,” Becky replied, sitting back to look down at Charlotte. Her blonde hair looked silver amongst all the flowers, billowing around her in a great cloud, a nereid adrift in an ocean of verdure. She was as Ophelia, painfully lovely, vacant-eyed and dreaming with her chin tip-tilted to the sky like it owed her something. Her wrists were crossed above her head, her gaze directed heavenward with an almost childish wonder parting her lips, St Sebastian blessed with womanhood. Becky’s elegant hand was silver against the smooth swell of her breast, her skin white as Madonna lillies in the pale glow of the starlight that cradled them. They seemed to bathe in that abyssal dreaming, slipping between the atoms and ripples of existence, joined without a seam or an end to their closeness. Charlotte’s eyes, now blue, now green, now argent in the moonlight, seemed to speak of forever. Becky gently shifted and climbed off of Charlotte to lie down beside her, resting her head on Charlotte’s chest. Charlotte smelt like blessings and chapel incense, roses at an alter, sticky blackcurrant kisses stolen in summertime.

“I’m sorry it took this long,” Becky whispered.

“When I’m with you, time doesn’t mean anything,” Charlotte replied, rolling onto her side to look Becky in the eyes, drawing her close. She kissed the top of Becky’s head once, reassuringly, and buried her face in her bright mane, her hand toying with the stray tendrils at the nape of Becky’s neck.

“I didn’t know it was possible to love somebody this much,” Becky mumbled, her face pressed to Charlotte’s chest.

“I learned the moment I laid eyes on you,” Charlotte replied. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Becky answered, wriggling upward to kiss Charlotte once, a slow, lingering kiss that made Charlotte tremble. “Come on. It looks like it’s gettin’ cloudy and as idyllic as this is, I don’t wanna be out here when the rain starts.”

 

The drive home seemed endless. Initially, they had driven in contented quiet enjoying the scenery, but as the rain started and blurred the outside world into a wild maelstrom of crystal, Becky and Charlotte began to tease each other.

“You’ve been awfully romantic lately,” Charlotte teased. “Looking to get lucky tonight?”

“When am I not?” Becky replied, removing one hand from the wheel to trail her fingertips along Charlotte’s inner thigh, laughing softly as she felt Charlotte shift at her touch.

“Don’t be a tease, Becky,” Charlotte said, crossing her legs.

“I’m not teasin’, babe,” Becky replied, raising her eyebrows. “I fully intend to take you to bed the moment we get home. You’re just impatient.”

“Pull over,” Charlotte demanded, before reconsidering her tone. “Please. Please pull over.”

Becky pulled over. Within seconds, Charlotte was out of her seatbelt and in the back of the car, dragging Becky between the seats to join her. Charlotte was so tall there wasn’t much room, but she still spread her legs and pulled Becky close, pressing herself against Becky’s thigh. Becky almost gasped at the warmth between Charlotte’s thighs, and found herself shifting to lie back across the seats and pull Charlotte down on top of her, sliding her thigh back between Charlotte’s legs and resting her hands on Charlotte’s hips to push her into her. Charlotte rolled her hips in response, letting out a small cry at the pressure of Becky against her, instantly dizzy with the intense rush of want that flooded her. Becky was pulling her down to kiss her, one hand knotted in her blonde hair, the other draped around her shoulders with a lazy possessiveness. Charlotte’s hands pushed upward under Becky’s shirt to cup her breasts as she gently, slowly, drew her fingertips across Becky’s nipples, hard through her bra, begging to be sucked, bitten, played with. Charlotte moaned and Becky laughed huskily beneath her, her laugh dissolving into a moan of her own as Charlotte slipped her hands under the wire of Becky’s bra, gracelessly pushing it upward, exposing Becky’s breasts.

“Your tits are gorgeous,” Charlotte breathed, taking one nipple into her mouth and flicking her tongue across it teasingly, feeling her hips buck involuntarily at the noise Becky made in response. Charlotte had never known a girl who loves having her breasts touched and kissed as much as Becky; it was pretty much a guaranteed way to have her, quite literally, in the palm of her hand. 

“No,” Becky said softly, pulling her bra back into the correct position. Charlotte immediately removed her hands from Becky’s person and wiggled out of the way to let her sit up.

“Are you okay?” Charlotte asked softly, worried she’d hurt her somehow.

“I’m more than okay,” Becky panted. “It’s just that if we keep goin’, I’m gonna need you to fuck me right now in the back of this car, and I want to get home and have you properly. Slowly. In bed. Not out here on seats Sasha spilled a Slush Puppie on.”

“As loathe as I am to admit it,” Charlotte replied. “You’re right. Let’s get going.”

 

The streetlights flickered past in heartbeats of orange light, lancing into the car and lighting Becky on fire with an apricot glow. Charlotte trembled next to her, her hand on Becky’s thigh.

“I know baby, we’ll be home soon,” Becky replied to Charlotte’s silent pleading, her voice almost a growl it was so low and velveted, her own desire getting the better of her as she took her eyes off the road to glance at Charlotte beside her. She almost choked; Charlotte’s head was tilted back, one hand down the front of her pants, the other gripping Becky’s thigh with a kind of desperation that Becky knew meant she was close. Her chest heaved, her lips rosy as they parted in a gasp, her blonde curls falling into her face as she shifted under her own touch. She was impossibly beautiful, seraphic in her wild ecstasy, entirely a being of desire.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ Charlotte,” Becky moaned, her voice quivering. “I want to pull over and fuck you absolutely senseless, but we both know that’s not what tonight is about. Hold on baby, don’t tire yourself out.”

Charlotte moaned softly in response, reluctantly withdrawing her hand and licking her fingers clean, but the sight was too much for Becky to resist. Becky pulled overand immediately undid her seatbelt to climb onto Charlotte’s lap, kissing Charlotte so aggressively that Charlotte tasted the sharp metallic tang of blood where Becky bit her lip. Charlotte pulled back and slipped Becky’s shirt over her head, reaching up to unclasp her bra as Becky rode Charlotte’s thigh, arching her back as Charlotte’s fingers made contact with her bare skin. The moment was cut short as Charlotte’s phone began to ring. Becky clambered off of her girlfriend’s lap with a groan, despite Charlotte’s protestations.

“Just ignore it,” she whined, her cheeks flushed. Becky pulled her shirt back on, doing her best to ignore the pleading note in Charlotte’s voice she adored. She loved it when she was bratty.

“Nah, answer it,” Becky replied gruffly. “We can’t do anythin’ here anyway, unless we wanna get arrested for public indecency.”

Charlotte nodded and answered the phone, hoping her voice didn’t betray her preoccupation.

“Hello?”

“Hey Char,” Nattie’s voice was bright on the other end of the phone, and Charlotte groaned inwardly at her friend for disturbing her and Becky’s tryst. “Just wanted to check Becky hadn’t taken you out into the woods to murder you.”

“No, I’m still very much alive,” Charlotte replied weakly as Becky suppressed a laugh beside her.

“Glad to hear it,” Nattie said briskly, apparently completely missing the quiver in Charlotte’s voice. “That wasn’t really why I was calling, it was just to say we’re all going out for drinks tonight, and we wanted to ask if you guys wanted to come?”

Becky was shaking her head.

“Aw, thanks for inviting me Nattie,” Charlotte replied, reading Becky’s gestures. “But I’m all booked up for tonight, crazy busy. Maybe next time, yeah?”

“Next time then,” Nattie answered, sounding slightly disappointed. “Anyway, hope I didn’t disturb you! See you around!”

The moment Nattie hung up, Charlotte hurled her phone into the back seat.

“I swear to God Becky if you don’t take me home and fuck me as hard as you possibly can right now, I will physically DIE.”

“Got it,” Becky replied, enjoying Charlotte’s frustration as she pulled out of the parking space and began to drive them back to the hotel, speeding as much as she dared.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Well maybe I'm just thinking that the rooms are all on fire  
>  Everytime that you walk in the room  
> Well there is magic all around you, if I do say so myself  
> I have known this much longer than I've known you_

Becky kneeled, penitent, between Charlotte’s thighs, resting her head upon her knees, Samson in the lap of Delilah. Charlotte stroked her hair with one hand, the other tracing soft patterns across her lips, as if to bless her, cradling her in a strange, beatific quiet that made Becky feel nothing but the profound peace of adoration. Charlotte was golden and holy, seeming to glow, holding her half-drunk on love, suspended as a quavering, opalescent film, a soft edged bubble that distorted inward on itself, bending the world into a carousel of melting colour. Becky whispered her name, an exaltation, rising to climb on top of Charlotte and gently push her backward, pressing soft kisses along the exposed line of her neck as she turned her head to offer herself to Becky. Becky took her time, trailing kisses all over Charlotte but the places she begged to be kissed, tracing the bluebell veins on Charlotte’s breasts with her fingertip, marvelling at the thrumming crawl of existence through the violet map of her, her heartbeats whispering a language of their own somewhere beneath her skin. Charlotte seemed impossibly lovely, and yet at the same time so achingly human that Becky was almost afraid of how much she loved her.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” Charlotte breathed. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

“No, but this time it’s different,” Becky replied. “This time, you know I’m in love with you. And I want to make you feel it.”

Beneath her, Charlotte was rosy, with rivers of stars under her skin, and a romantic's heartbeat that sang like reckless thunder. She met Becky’s gaze, reaching up to caress her lover’s cheek with such tenderness that Becky could do nothing but close her eyes and sigh, leaning into the touch.

“Okay,” Charlotte whispered. “Make me feel it.”

With trembling hands, Becky parted Charlotte’s thighs and kissed a soft path down her body, pausing at a hipbone to spare a special kiss for a freckle as she passed. Charlotte’s hands were in her hair, gentle as Becky paused and breathed a soft sigh into Charlotte’s inner thigh, her hands quivering as Becky continued and dipped to kiss her where she was soft and pink and wanting. Charlotte let out the sweetest whisper of Becky’s name; once, then again, again, again as Becky lapped at her, her name a litany on Charlotte’s lips. Her hands balled into fists in Becky’s hair, and Becky raised her amber gaze to meet Charlotte’s. She looked intoxicated by her, a maenad all red maned and wild, her lips glistening with evidence of her efforts, sweeter than peach nectar, Charlotte in the most decadent disarray beneath her.

“Please, Becky,” Charlotte whispered, brushing Becky’s hair out of her face. Obliging, Becky returned to her, with one last lingering look of adulation, ambrosia sticky on her cheeks. Charlotte moaned as Becky breathed a hot sigh softly, contentedly, against her. She was honeyed and desperate, quivering under every stroke Becky applied; as Becky lips found the rosebud sweetspot, sucking gently, she heard Charlotte’s voice increase suddenly in pitch, and knew she was close. She teased, pausing to pull away and admire the way Charlotte’s want clung to her lips in a gossamer strand, the way she seemed to shine like nacre, her thighs flushing.

“Becky, please,” Charlotte begged, squirming beneath her, balling the sheets in her fists and arching her back.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” Becky growled, sinking her teeth into Charlotte’s thigh before burying her face in Charlotte once more and giving her the release she had so prettily pleaded for. Charlotte moaned, her voice trembling as Becky surfaced, immediately moving to cradle Charlotte and kiss her.

“Oh,” Charlotte murmured. “You taste of me.”

“You taste pretty fuckin’ amazin’, babe,” Becky replied, running a teasing finger across Charlotte’s warmth, eliciting a desperate moan.

“You want more?” Becky asked, repeating the motion and smiling at the wail she received in response.

“Yes,” she whispered, sitting up to drape her arms around Becky’s shoulder, pressing her breasts against Becky’s, kissing her on the temple. “I always want more.”

“Greedy,” Becky replied with a smirk, leaning in to Charlotte’s touch, sliding her hand up her thigh.

“No,” Charlotte breathed. “I want you.”

Becky paused for a moment as if to take the words in, before abruptly clambering into Charlotte’s arms and tipping her over backward.

“What are you do-“ Charlotte began. “Oh.”

Becky straddled her, and Charlotte could feel the heat of her on her stomach. Charlotte nodded her consent and Becky moved to sit on Charlotte’s face, gripping the bed frame for balance as Charlotte gently looped her arms around Becky’s thighs and cradled her. Charlotte had not missed the sheen Becky had left on her stomach where her desire had dripped and slicked Charlotte’s golden skin.

“Oh Charlotte,” Becky said softly, her stomach muscles fluttering as Charlotte explored her ravenously, moaning into her with such fervent desire that Becky found herself riding her lover with an almost reckless aggression. Charlotte stroked her thigh, muted by the wild heat of her, and Becky knew the gesture was Charlotte’s way of saying “good girl”.

“Yes Charlotte,” Becky sobbed, her knuckles turning white on the bed frame, Charlotte’s tongue dancing across the sweet spot with such cruel precision that Becky could feel herself coming undone, a wail rising from within her with the buzzing heat that consumed her like wildfire.

“Charlotte! Charlotte, I love you!” Becky cried out, beginning to cry as she always did, and dismounting Charlotte.

“I love you too,” Charlotte replied, her hair sticking to her face in golden tendrils as she gently embraced Becky and pulled her close, playing with her hair as she rested her head on Charlotte’s chest.

“I’m sorry it was over so quickly,” Becky said apologetically through her tears, sniffing and swatting her tears away with irritation. “I’m sorry I always cry.”

“It’s okay, baby girl,” Charlotte whispered into her hair. “I know that’s why you like to give more than take.”

“I want to,” Becky said quietly. “I want to let you have me the way I have you so badly. You give me all of you, and I just... can’t.”

“We can take it slow,” Charlotte replied. “I have all the time in the world.”

“We’ve been takin’ it slow for years, and I still cry every time, Charlotte,” Becky replied, frustrated. “I just want to let go.”

“And in those years, we’ve learned so much about each other, Becky,” Charlotte told her, taking her hand. “I remember you wouldn’t let me do anything to you at first, and when you finally did... I was thrilled you trusted me so much.”

Becky looked up at Charlotte and reached up to touch her face.

“I think you’re the only one I’ve ever trusted,” Becky faltered.

“I’m honoured,” Charlotte answered, kissing the top of Becky’s head. “You never really... talked about any of this with me, and I figured you’d talk to me when you were ready.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

“You don’t ever have to be.”

 

As Becky lay in the dark, Charlotte in her arms, she thought of the first time Charlotte had shyly said “I love you”, under a blue sky as they looked out over the world together. Becky had hurt her, first with her delayed reaction, and again with her refusal to reciprocate. She could picture her face at that moment, turned in profile in the sun, seraphic, crowned with celestial light, her halo trembling under the weight of Becky’s expectation. Becky would never know if she’d captured her in a moment of unconscious Grace, cut in an aureate flame like a passionate saint, or if Charlotte wore her mask; too often when Charlotte was hurt, Charlotte and The Queen seemed to bleed together, one and the same. Her crown was both her armour and her sword, and she wore and wielded it in equal measure. And yet somehow, Becky and Charlotte, each armoured in a cage of her own making, had found each other, undressed each other, shown each other to the sun.

Becky lay on her side to look at Charlotte, asleep beside her. It had never just been sex. Not even the first time. Every night spent in Charlotte’s arms had always been more than sex, and Charlotte had been the only one of the two brave enough to admit it, at first.

“Thank you for makin’ me brave.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how many chapters is this going to have? idk but prob too many. i went back and added a few lines from the songs i listened to as i wrote each chapter bc i thought it was more fun than titling the chapters, so i’ll try do that from now on.
> 
> _To the ends of the earth, would you follow me  
>  There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see  
> To the ends of the earth, would you follow me  
> Well if you want, I will say my goodbyes to me_

“Hey Becks,” Charlotte was saying, somewhere beyond the haze of sleep, her voice a distant music. “I made coffee.”

Becky stirred, blinking a little at the light flooding into their room. Morning Charlotte was Becky’s favourite, wearing no make-up and just a t-shirt, smelling like sex, and the perfume she wore the night before, and Becky.

“You’re a gem so you are,” Becky said gratefully, stretching expansively and sitting up in bed as Charlotte handed her a mug and sat down cross legged across from her. Becky could see, where her boyshorts had ridden up, the rubid speckles of the kisses she’d stained Charlotte’s inner thighs with.

“If my gear doesn’t cover those, I will personally murder you,” Charlotte advised conversationally, noticing the direction of Becky’s gaze. “How are you feeling, baby girl?”

“Tired,” Becky admitted, looking down. “I ended up stayin’ up thinkin’ for hours afterward.”

“That’s okay, you can sleep a little more if you like,” Charlotte told her. “I’m sorry if I made you talk about stuff you didn’t want to last night.”

“Nah babe,” Becky reassured her. “I just got to thinkin’, then couldn’t stop.”

“If you’re sure,” Charlotte replied, leaning forward to kiss the tip of her nose briefly. “You know I’m always here if you wanna talk, and even if you don’t.”

“I know,” Becky said, smiling wanly at Charlotte, though her brow furrowed. “You know... we’ve been doin’ this for so long, and I told you I hadn’t slept with anybody else that whole time, and I was still runnin’ away from committing to you, and you just waited. You always say you’ve got all the time in the world, but you waited for so long.”

“What do you mean?” Charlotte replied nervously, sipping her coffee to try and hide the anxiety in her expression.

“Just that we was with each other this whole time, I was just pretendin’ not to be,” Becky said, setting her coffee cup down and lying back onto the pillows contemplatively. “You knew we had somethin’ and never lost faith in it, and I kept tryin’ to run away from it.”

“Well we’d agreed to be casual,” Charlotte shrugged, trying to avoid thinking of her night with Paige. “We didn’t have any rules, you weren’t obligated to treat me like your girlfriend. We weren’t exclusive.”

“We might as well have been,” Becky cut in. “I dunno, it was like I was waitin’ for you and pushin’ you away at the same time. Tryna test to see if you really wanted me, if you’d keep tryin’, or just find somebody less complicated to pass the nights with. And you didn’t let me down, Charlotte. You stuck with me. The whole time.”

“You really didn’t have anybody else?” Charlotte asked, trying to ignore the niggling guilt in the back of her mind; Becky didn’t know. Charlotte had found somebody less complicated to spend the night with, albeit just once, but she had given up on Becky that night. Becky praising her for never giving up on her, for holding out for her, for patience for the sake of love, it made her uncomfortable. Realistically, Charlotte knew she hadn’t exactly done anything wrong; they hadn’t been dating at the time, and Becky had told her numerous times their arrangement was casual, but Charlotte had the feeling Becky wouldn’t see it that way.

“Never wanted anybody else,” Becky said gruffly. “Don’t really trust anybody else enough to get into bed with them. You always made me feel safe, and loved, even when you were bein’ proper dirty. Always, no matter what we did, I felt loved, Charlotte.”

“Proper dirty?” Charlotte asked, smiling in spite of herself, dimpling like a cherub. “And you always felt loved because you were, and are, Becks.”

“Don’t make me explain what I mean by proper dirty this early in the mornin’ or else you’re comin’ back to bed and we’re not goin’ anywhere for the rest of the day,” Becky replied, grinning.

“That’s a tempting offer,” Charlotte murmured, leaning over to set her mug on the bedside table beside Becky’s, and straddling Becky with a teasing smile, her eyebrow quirked in amusement as Becky squirmed beneath her. All apprehensions and thoughts of Paige were forgotten.

“I’m not kiddin’,” Becky warned her, laughing as she pulled Charlotte down to kiss her, tangled in her cloud of golden hair, feeling Charlotte smile against her kiss, then give into her, deepening the kiss and pushing Becky down against the pillows. Becky chuckled softly as they broke apart.

“Don’t you try and slip me tongue to bend me to your will, Miss Flair,” Becky warned, tapping Charlotte’s nose with a fingertip as though was a badly behaved dog. Charlotte grabbed Becky’s jaw and tilted her face up to look at her with a smirk, her other hand pinning Becky’s wrist above her head.

“You will always bend to my will, Becky,” Charlotte breathed, leaning down to whisper right in Becky’s ear for maximum effect. “Everybody bows to the queen.”

Becky neatly rolled her over, vanquishing Charlotte’s bravado as she pinned her underneath her, though Charlotte could tell from the way Becky flushed that she was deeply effected by her words.

“I don’t know whether to laugh at you for bein’ so corny,” Becky said, raising an eyebrow. “Or demand that the queen lets me get on my knees and worship her the way she deserves.”

“It’s weird that way,” Charlotte laughed. “It feels so... tacky because it’s the whole gimmick thing, but you find it kind of hot, don’t you?”

“Infuriatin’ though it is to admit it,” Becky said, rolling off Charlotte and lying down beside her. “I sorta do. But don’t you pretend you don’t feel some kind of way about The Man either. The Man is irresistible.”

“Everybody’s a bottom when The Man comes around,” Charlotte said with snort, playfully punching Becky’s arm.

“Oh my god Charlotte,” Becky groaned, kicking her legs with amused embarrassment as the two dissolved into laughter. “That might be the worst thing you’ve ever said.”

“God, I love how you say my name,” Charlotte said dreamily, turning onto her side to look Becky in the eyes.

“How do I say it? I just say Charlotte,” Becky replied, confused.

“T’charlit... charlitt,” Charlotte attempted, in the best Irish accent she could muster.

“I don’t say it like that! And your accent is just dire,” Becky cried, through uproarious laughter at Charlotte’s attempts. “Am scarlet for you, I really am. Unreal.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Charlotte replied defensively as Becky wiped away tears of mirth.

“You need to come home with me,” Becky said shaking her head. “Gotta immerse you in the culture and work on that impersonation.”

“Well why not?” Charlotte asked suddenly. “I mean, next time we get the chance. Let’s go on an adventure.”

“You serious?” Becky asked quietly, wide eyed.

“Yeah. I’d like to see more of Ireland. It sounds beautiful,” Charlotte replied hopefully. “Besides, way back, the first time, you told me you’d show me Ireland. I’ll hold you to it.”

“It is,” Becky said softly. “I’d... I think I’d like that. And you know I never break a promise made in bed to a beautiful girl.”

Charlotte nodded, lacing her fingers through Becky’s as a mute promise.

“Show me.”

 

The first time, Becky had promised to show Charlotte Ireland as they lay tangled in each other. They had made a strange combination, Charlotte naked and sprawled, Becky clothed, tracing constellations into the gaps between her freckles with her fingertips. Charlotte’s breathing shuddered as she came down, resting in Becky’s arms and knowing even then that she belonged there.

“You’re gorgeous when you come,” Becky said conversationally, stroking Charlotte’s hair. Charlotte had the distinct feeling that, if Becky smoked, she would have been smoking a victory cigarette at that moment.

“Thank you,” Charlotte replied, beginning to sit up and get ready to leave, but wishing for just a few more moments in Becky’s strong, freckled arms. “I hope I’m the notch on your bedpost you’re most proud of.”

“Hey, I’m not ready to give you up just yet,” Becky whispered, pulling Charlotte back into her lap, pressing her lips against Charlotte’s neck. “You’re art. Let me appreciate you.”

“God you’re shameless,” Charlotte half sighed, half moaned as Becky’s hands began to wander.

“You’re not a notch on my bedpost either,” Becky continued, gently brushing her lips against Charlotte’s jawline, her breath hot on Charlotte’s skin. “I had fun. I don’t want this to be a one night stand.”

“I don’t either,” Charlotte admitted, halting Becky’s amorous advances. “I’ve thought about... us for a while.”

“If you’re up for this happenin’ again, then so am I,” Becky said smoothly, and Charlotte felt her heart sink as she realised what Becky was saying.

“Friends with benefits?”

“Best friends with benefits,” corrected Becky. “And god, what a benefit.”

“You’re good, Lynch,” Charlotte said gruffly. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind that.”

“I mean, the sexual tension was startin’ to get noticeable,” Becky grinned. “And there was that time at Nattie’s party where I whispered in your ear and you literally moaned. Somebody had to give you some.”

“It’s the accent!” Charlotte spluttered, blushing furiously. “And you surprised me! That’s not a fair example. Also I was quite happy without “some” thank you very much.”

“But what a waste,” Becky murmured, dragging her gaze up Charlotte’s body. “If you like the accent, you should come home with me some time. I reckon you’d have a laugh in Ireland.”

“Is this your way of asking me back to your place?” Charlotte joked. “I’d love you to show me around your hometown. I bet you’d have tons of great stories.”

“I do,” Becky replied. “You know what? I’ll take you sometime. Some day, when we’re a big deal together, I’ll take you back home with me. Best friend for life is a better trophy than the championships.”

“You’re my Person,” Charlotte sighed, linking pinkies with Becky.

“Platonic soulmates,” Becky said dramatically, gesturing at the ceiling. “I’m so happy I met you.”

Charlotte struggled; words seemed to bloom in the back of her throat, struggling to unfurl like funeral lillies, a bad decision.

“I’m happy I met you too,” she murmured, letting every hopeful I love you die on her lips. Here she was, closer to Becky than she could ever have dreamed of being, with Becky professing her love, and she was complaining that it wasn’t the right kind of love; she felt foolish, strangely melancholy, and yet her heart soared. She felt Becky kiss the top of her head, and closed her eyes. Charlotte felt a strange, sad kind of peace. Becky, blissfully unaware of Charlotte’s internal conflict, dozed. Her arms were full of golden-haired girl, and not just any girl, but the girl who taught her how to smile again. Charlotte grieved and rejoiced in the same breath. Becky? For the first time in a long, long time, Becky felt safe.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Silver and fire_   
>  _burn in the night_   
>  _There's nothing quite as beautiful_   
>  _as your light_

“Charlotte...”

At the sound of Becky’s voice, Charlotte looked up, wondering if her girlfriend was going to distract her from her reassuring pre-flight runway gazing. Charlotte was comfortable flying, even long haul, but she still liked to look out the window before take off and assure herself everything was proceeding correctly.

“Wanna join the mile high club?” Becky whispered, elbowing her in the ribs.

“Becky, we haven’t even taken off,” Charlotte groaned. “Hardly a mile high.”

“Not right now, don’t be daft,” Becky replied, though her expression softened and she reached over to squeeze Charlotte’s hand. “Thank you for comin’ home with me, Char.”

“Hey, you’re the one taking me home with you,” Charlotte answered with a smile, dimpling in spite of herself. “You told me you would. You said that once we were a big deal, you’d bring me home with you.”

“And here we are, very big deals, and very much on a plane preparin’ to depart for Ireland,” Becky said, gesturing widely and almost taking out a flight attendant with her arm in the process. “I can show you everythin’, take you to meet my family.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Charlotte reassured her, her heart fluttering at the thought of meeting Becky’s family. “But no Mile High Club.”

“Spoilsport.”

Charlotte tried to suppress a smile and closed her eyes, leaning back in her seat. When Becky had promised, so many years ago, to take her home with her, Charlotte had not imagined she’d be going home as Becky’s girlfriend. Though, all things considered, Charlotte hadn’t imagined she’d have ended up with Becky at all. In fact, nothing had really played out as Charlotte expected. She didn’t expect to wind up dating Becky Lynch, she didn’t expect to consider moving in with Becky Lynch, to discuss adopting a dog with Becky Lynch, to give her life to Becky Lynch. And yet, here she was, guilty of all of the above, and deliriously happy about it. It felt like they had agreed to visit Ireland together years ago, when in reality, only a couple of months had passed as they tried to find a gap in their schedule. Time with Becky did not obey the standard rules put in place by the universe, Charlotte had learned; love runs on its own time, and you just have to deal with it. As they prepared for takeoff, Charlotte tried not to think too much about the vaguely terrifying prospect of meeting Becky’s family. Becky had met her family, numerous times. Hell, Becky probably got on better with Charlotte’s dad than she did. They exchanged Christmas cards every year. Charlotte wasn’t sure what impression she’d make; a tall, busty, tattooed, blonde wrestler probably wasn’t what Becky’s parents had envisioned for their daughter.

“Becky,” Charlotte said suddenly as a thought occurred to her. “Do your parents know you’re dating a woman?”

Becky roared with laughter, so suddenly that Charlotte jumped and several passengers turned to look at the source of the commotion. Charlotte tried to wriggle down in her seat and become less conspicuous, unaware that all of the nearly-six-feet of her was not physically capable of being inconspicuous.

“No,” Becky finally said through tears of mirth. “Didn’t tell them, kept it vague. It’ll be hilarious when they see you.”

“Oh my god Becky, I am going to dismantle you,” Charlotte replied, rubbing her temples. “How am I supposed to make a good impression? I’m probably not the type of partner your parents were hoping for.”

“You made a good enough impression on me for me to want you to meet them,” Becky shrugged. “That’s enough.”

“But-“

“Charlotte,” Becky interrupted, taking Charlotte’s hand. “You’re enough.”

Charlotte gently rested her head on Becky’s shoulder, smiling to herself as her nervousness melted away. Becky was right; if Becky wanted her to meet them, it spoke volumes of how much she trusted and loved her.

“Hey,” Becky whispered, indicating a couple a few seats up trying to soothe their little girl as she fussed during takeoff. “Imagine us with a kid.”

“Oh my god,” Charlotte said, rolling her eyes, though blushing slightly at the suggestion. “We can barely cope with sorting ourselves out, let alone a kid.”

“Who’s carryin’?” Becky asked jokingly. “You wanna pass on that good Flair blood, right? It’ll moonsault right out of there.”

Becky nodded at Charlotte’s lap, and Charlotte shoved her.

“First of all, I did not spend this much time on my body for a baby to ruin it,” Charlotte replied laughing. “Second of all, I’d want you to, so she could be beautiful.”

“Shut up,” said Becky, blushing furiously. “Don’t be soft when I’m bein’ a little shit, it makes me feel like a bad girlfriend.”

“Don’t worry babe, we’re not quite ready for kids yet,” Charlotte said, leaning over to kiss Becky’s forehead. “We can maybe try a dog first.”

“Or a goldfish,” Becky suggested, kicking Charlotte gently and fidgeting in her seat.

“You’re worse than an actual child,” Charlotte hissed, batting Becky’s legs until she kept them still.

“Does that make you my daddy?”

“Becky I swear to god I will ask the flight attendant to move me.”

“That’s fair, we both know you’re nobody’s daddy, your bottom energy is too much.”

Charlotte groaned and leaned back in her seat as Becky kept up a constant stream of chatter beside her.

It was going to be a long flight.

 

“Ahhhhh, Becky look! It’s so green,” Charlotte exclaimed, pointing out of the window as they passed a verdant patchwork of fields, some dotted with buttercups and peaceful groups of cows, others a rippling green carpet of spring barley. Charlotte was very taken with the train, and greatly enjoyed the opportunities for admiring the landscape it afforded.

“I know,” Becky said patiently. “I used to live here.”

“Cows! Look at them!” Charlotte cried, clapping her hands together in delight as they passed a field of two gambolling calves and a sedate group of grazing cattle.

“Yes, Charlotte, they have those in America too, remember?”

“Yes but these are _Irish_ cows, like the pictures on the butter packaging,” Charlotte insisted, though she sheepishly looked away from the window. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve spent any time in the countryside. And here, it’s so different to back home; you can go from the middle of the city to just... green and forests in no time at all. Back home, it takes a while to really leave the city behind when you drive anywhere.”

“We can kick about and see the scenery if you want,” Becky shrugged. “I’ll take you to all the beauty spots. Loads of cathedrals.”

“That would be lovely,” Charlotte replied, leaning in to peck Becky on the cheek.

“We can hold hands and get ice cream and go for a walk around all the cool places,” Becky promised. “You’re goin’ to be sick of me by the time this trip is over because I’m stickin’ to you like glue. I’m so excited to show you everythin’.”

“I’m really looking forward to it,” Charlotte assured her with a shy smile. “Thank you for bringing me home with you.”

“Home is wherever you are,” Becky murmured, leaning in to rest her cheek against Charlotte’s shoulder. “Everywhere else is just all the stuff in between.”

 

The week in Ireland flashed past in sky and sea, green and stone. Becky ensured no stone was left unturned, talking Charlotte through the history of the places they visited, sharing anecdotes from her time growing up in Ireland. She even managed to convince Charlotte to try some local delicacies - “It’s a Kimberly biscuit, it won’t bite you, lass,” - and found herself relishing the feeling of sharing such a big part of herself with Charlotte. Becky had not anticipated letting her walls come down to feel so good. Charlotte had been an absolute delight, drinking in all of the information Becky gave her with animated interest. She’d even managed to leave a good impression on Becky’s family, who had initially been speechless at the sight of her, but had quickly warmed to her and gathered around her like moths to a flame. Charlotte was just like that; she was summertime and a hug from an old friend, a warm little light that just seemed to glow.

“I have a surprise for you before we go home,” Becky said mysteriously on the last day, leaning out of the shower to raise her eyebrows meaningfully at Charlotte, who was applying her makeup in the bathroom mirror.

“What kind of surprise?” Charlotte asked suspiciously, pausing to eye Becky with mistrust.

“You’ll see when we go,” Becky replied, flicking water at Charlotte playfully, who was applying mascara with her mouth wide open. “If you’re not too busy catchin’ flies.”

After over an hour of trying to get ready that repeatedly devolved into play wrestling on the bed, lips smudged with kisses, Charlotte and Becky finally managed to arrange themselves into something fit to be seen in public. Becky linked arms with Charlotte as they left, confidently steering her down the maze of bustling main roads and cobbled side streets. Eventually, they reached a little tattoo parlour, tucked away down an alley where moss sprung brightly between the cobblestones, and flowers pushed their way through gaps in the brickwork of the buildings.

“A tattoo?” Charlotte asked in surprise. Becky nodded.

“My mate’s shop. Wanted to get somethin’ to commemorate comin’ here with you. You don’t have to get nothin’,” Becky added hurriedly. “Just wanted you to be there.”

The shop door creaked as they entered, and a tall man with pink hair looked up to greet them, his face breaking into a smile as he saw Becky.

“Caoimhín my man,” Becky said, immediately going in for a bear hug whilst Charlotte stood to one side. “Amazin’ to see you again, you’re lookin’ grand.”

“No wonder you wanted to show this one off, she’s a right beour,” Caoimhín replied, nudging Becky as he reached out to shake Charlotte’s hand.

“Come on now, don’t break out the old-fashioned slang for the tourist,” Becky teased, as Charlotte looked between them, nonplussed.

“I’ll keep it plain English,” Caoimhín promised. “Now, you’re here about a wee souvenir tattoo?”

“That’s right,” Becky said. “For me, I dunno if she’s gettin’ one.”

“I’ll get one too,” Charlotte said decisively.

“I wondered if you’d be able to do us a wee stick and poke tattoo,” Becky continued. “Always loved your stick and poke work, wanted some for myself for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you do your own?” Caoimhín asked, as he led them to the back of the shop. “You were good at it.”

“You didn’t tell me you did tattoos,” Charlotte said, her eyebrows threatening to disappear into her hair they were raised so high. They sat down at Caoimhín‘s desk, scattered with beautiful illustrations and notes.

“Just as a hobby for a bit when I was younger,” Becky shrugged.

“Will you do mine?” Charlotte asked shyly. Caoimhín nodded enthusiastically.

“That’s a good idea, Becks,” he added. “You can do Charlotte’s, and I’ll help Charlotte do yours. Make it special.”

Becky looked hesitant.

“I dunno, I haven’t done it in ages,” Becky began, twisting her hands in her lap anxiously as Charlotte looked at her, her eyes alight in blue, green, gray, an ocean of hope and apprehension all at once.

“I don’t mind if you fuck it up,” Charlotte said. “I just want it to be yours.”

“The lady knows what she wants,” Caoimhín shrugged. Finally, Becky nodded.

“Alright,” Becky agreed grudgingly. “I’ll do it. But you gotta do mine.”

 

With a tiny star scarcely larger than her pinkie fingernail burning on her wrist, Becky took a breath and leaned in to begin her work on Charlotte. Caoimhín had assisted Charlotte in inking Becky’s star, and the final product had turned out beautifully even, despite Charlotte’s inexperience. Charlotte barely even twitched as Becky gently slid the ink-filled needle in and out, slowly imprinting a tiny path across her skin. To Charlotte, who had numerous tattoos in a number of places, such a small design on her wrist seemed like rather a trifling matter. However, Becky could sense Charlotte’s nervous apprehension as she worked.

“Don’t worry babe,” Becky muttered, focusing on ensuring the line was clean. “I won’t fuck it up.”

Eventually, Becky pulled back to admire her handy work; a tiny crescent moon.

“It’s so pretty,” Charlotte whispered, examining her new tattoo with awed delight. “I can’t believe we tattooed each other.”

“The height of romance,” Caoimhín said with a grin as the two cleaned themselves up and wrapped their new tattoos. They thanked Caoimhín as they left; stepping out into the street felt like spilling out into the world and unleashing all of their giddy happiness with them in a soft wave. Becky linked hands with Charlotte and lifted their arms to admire their handiwork.

“Together we make up the sky,” Becky told Charlotte, standing on her tiptoes to kiss her, Charlotte obligingly dipping her head to return the kiss. As they broke apart, Becky squeezed Charlotte’s hand.

“C’mon. Gotta make the most of our last day,” Becky said, leading Charlotte back onto the main streets. “Let’s get lunch and go do somethin’ wild.”

Charlotte nodded, besotted; she held Becky’s wild heart in her hands, and Becky held hers. They belonged to each other, silver and fire. As Becky led Charlotte by the hand, a constant stream of information about various locations they passed as they walked, Charlotte was lost in the dizzy reverie that can only be truly experienced by somebody in love. They paused for Becky to tie her shoelaces, and Charlotte glanced at her phone, realising she had hardly bothered to check any of her social media the entire time she’d been gone.

“Becky,” Charlotte said suddenly, as they took one of Becky’s shortcuts across a churchyard. “I don’t want any of this to ever end.”

“We all gotta go back to work sometime, Princess,” Becky replied with a laugh. “Vince would send out a search party.”

“No, I mean... this,” Charlotte continued uncertainly. “With you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m scared it will.”

Becky studied Charlotte’s face for a long moment.

“You’re always gonna be mine,” she said softly. “No matter what happens. And I’ll always be yours. And I’ll find a way to make sure you know it. But don’t think about forever right now. Enjoy the moment.”

Charlotte nodded, following Becky as she led her around the side of the church. Becky had said “no matter what”, right? Charlotte should have felt reassured, but she didn’t. Her phone screen glowed in her pocket with a Facebook message.

_I mean it Charlotte, if you don’t tell her, I will._


	15. Chapter 15

Stepping into the empty house after a week away felt ghostly and odd, the rooms cold and stark with disuse. The strange quiet seemed to settle over them in a blanket. Charlotte wasted no time in kicking her shoes off and dropping her luggage, immediately making her way to the kitchen for a coffee, Becky following suit.

“God that flight back was exhausting,” Charlotte groaned, leaning on the kitchen countertop with a yawn. The journey home had been a difficult one; turbulence, wailing children, and even an unplanned stopover had sapped what little energy Charlotte had left.

“Thank you for lettin’ me stay here tonight,” Becky said, lifting herself onto the counter to sit with her legs dangling. “I think if I had to check into a hotel after that, I’d die.”

Charlotte moved over to stand on her tiptoes to kiss Becky, coffee forgotten.

“I’m not used to you being taller,” Charlotte laughed, as Becky kicked her legs mischievously.

“I dunno, I could get used to it.”

“Don’t,” Charlotte advised, laughing as Becky wrapped her legs around Charlotte’s waist and hauled herself into Charlotte’s arms.

“Carry me to bed,” Becky whined, feigning collapse in Charlotte’s embrace. “I’m too weak to go on.”

“Your wish is my command, even though you’re being an absolute brat about it,” Charlotte agreed, pausing to shoulder the light switch on her way out of the kitchen and crashing both Becky and herself into the wall.

“Hey, I’m precious cargo,” Becky said indignantly as Charlotte carried her through the house to the bedroom. “And I’m allowed to be a brat, it’s usually you bein’ bratty, Princess Flair.”

Charlotte responded by dropping Becky onto the bed unceremoniously. Becky wriggled our of her jeans and crawled directly into Charlotte’s bed without bothering to properly change, curling up under the duvet like a cat. As Charlotte undressed, Becky dozed, closing her eyes; she’d missed Charlotte’s bed.

“You know,” Charlotte began tentatively as she rummage through her clothes for something to wear to bed. “You could just... move in here if you wanted.”

“Do you want me to?” Becky asked, sitting up. “I thought we agreed it was more convenient for us to have my place and your place.”

“I really want you to,” Charlotte answered, biting her lower lip anxiously. “I don’t want this to be my bed, my house. I want it to be our bed. Our house.”

“Hey Charlie?” Becky asked shyly as Charlotte turned out the lights and climbed into bed beside her.

“Yes, babe?”

“I want you to kiss me,” Becky said softly, reaching out in the dark to touch Charlotte’s cheek. Charlotte obliged, rolling over to embrace Becky and pulling her into a kiss so soft and gentle that Becky felt her entire body relax against Charlotte’s. Becky let her hands wander under the oversized t-shirt Charlotte was wearing to bed, feeling her stomach clench as Charlotte let out the softest, sweetest gasp of her name.

“Aren’t you tired?” Charlotte breathed, and Becky could feel her smiling against her skin.

“Yes,” Becky replied. “But I want this. If you’re not too tired.”

“Do you want me to turn the light back on?”

“Not tonight,” Becky whispered, and she felt Charlotte nod in understanding as she slowly pushed Becky over onto her back and straddled her, her hands finding their way in the dark. Becky was a natural poetry Charlotte had never had to memorise; she knew her by instinct, and she studied her with a religious fervour. Every freckle, every dimple, every tiny scar, Charlotte knew them all intimately. When Becky loosely draped her arms around Charlotte’s shoulders and pulled her into a kiss, Charlotte’s hands found her warm and wanting beneath her.

“Please,” Becky said softly. “Make me yours.”

Charlotte nodded, sliding her fingers into Becky as they kissed, Becky’s arms tensing around Charlotte’s shoulders as she let out a soft moan. That night was different to any night they’d ever spent together before; everything was slow, whispered, gentle. This was not the wild, fervent coupling they always entangled themselves in; Becky was soft and yielding as Charlotte touched her, coming undone beneath Charlotte in the loveliest way, Leda and the Swan tangled inelegantly, beautifully, rendered as classical art. Charlotte cradled Becky as a quickening washed over her, her voice a song Charlotte never wanted to end.

“Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte,” Becky repeated her name like a Hail Mary counted out in the rosary, like a sacred chant, like a desperate wish. “Charlotte I love you.”

“I love you too,” Charlotte whispered, nuzzling Becky’s neck, their bodies pressed together, glistening with each other. Becky had let herself be vulnerable, had melted into Charlotte’s touch and spilled herself, blooming like so many flowers for Charlotte, unafraid of frost. And Charlotte, still inside her, that very warmest part of her, holding all of her in her hands, was as sun, her soft kisses serving only to make Becky dreamily wonder why she hadn’t just let this happen sooner. Charlotte’s arms were where Becky found summer after an eternity of winter, and as Charlotte withdrew her fingers gently, raising them to her lips, Becky realised she wasn’t crying; there was no wild panic, no shame, only Charlotte, only the gold of her as she pulled Becky into her arms, only the impossibly perfect way they fitted together, only the soft, rhythmic murmur of her heart. Becky rested her head against Charlotte’s chest, listening intently, tapping the beat out against Charlotte’s arm with her fingertips.

“You didn’t cry,” Charlotte whispered.

“I didn’t cry,” Becky acknowledged, smiling a little as she noticed that the realisation she hadn’t cried was now stirring tears to bead on her lashes. Charlotte drew her closer, stroking her hair with one hand whilst the other painted delicate whorls and spirals around her lower back.

“Thank you for letting me in,” Charlotte said softly.

“Thank you for waitin’,” Becky replied, sleep slowly beginning to claim her. In Charlotte’s arms, perfectly exhausted, Becky felt like she had discovered her own heaven well before her time.

 

Afternoon climbed through the windows in syrupy shafts of golden light, sliding across their tangled bodies in a honey coloured beam as they shifted and let the last vestiges of sleep dissipate.

“I can’t believe we slept so late,” Charlotte said with gentle disappointment. Becky, beneath her, managed only the vaguest approximation of a shrug as she pulled Charlotte closer and kissed her, half-asleep and dreamy.

“I can’t believe I get to wake up next to you,” Becky whispered, gently rolling over so she and Charlotte lay face to face.

“Get used to it,” Charlotte replied, rubbing the tip of her nose against Becky’s.

“Nose kisses are very cute, but I want a real kiss,” Becky mumbled through a poorly suppressed yawn, leaning in to kiss Charlotte properly. In moments, Charlotte was on her again, her hands spreading her thighs, her kisses bruising Becky’s collarbones. Becky halted Charlotte’s progress down her torso, grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to look up and meet her eyes.

“What do you want, kitten?” Becky asked, gently brushing Charlotte’s lower lip with her thumb, as Charlotte studied her with a strange, lazy desire, the look in her eyes taking Becky’s breath away.

“I want to make you come again,” Charlotte whispered, her hands tightening their grip on Becky’s thighs as she leaned in to Becky’s touch. “Like last night.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Becky replied, tangling her fingers in Charlotte’s hair. “Your hair is so pretty, all golden and princess-y.”

“You just like pulling it,” Charlotte murmured from between Becky’s thighs with a throaty chuckle that made Becky’s insides jolt. With Charlotte’s name burning on her lips, Becky lay back and resigned herself to getting absolutely nothing done all day. For once, she didn’t mind; days off were few and far between, and if the most productive thing she’d do with her time off was figure out exactly how many times Charlotte could get her off in a row, she wasn’t going to complain. On the bedside table, Charlotte’s phone buzzed insistently, determined to distract Becky from the poetry Charlotte was writing with the tip of her tongue.

“Hey, stop,” Becky murmured and Charlotte sat up, her lips shining with Becky’s want, her hair mussed by Becky’s hands to a beautiful tawny mane.

“You okay?” Charlotte asked breathlessly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. The gesture alone filled Becky with the maddening desire to seize a fistful of her hair and demand she return to her place between Becky’s thighs, but she resisted the urge.

“Your phone’s goin’ nuts, you better check in case something’s happened,” Becky said, pulling the duvet back up to cover herself as Charlotte scrambled over to the edge of the bed.

“Ugh, it’s Paige,” Charlotte groaned. “She says it’s an emergency.”

“What’s happened?”

“I’ve asked, but she just says I need to come over. Knowing her, she’ll need help reaching something off a high shelf or something,” Charlotte said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll tell her I’m busy.”

“Don’t worry about it babe, you go see to Paige,” Becky said with a smile, getting out of bed and pulling on a pair of pyjama pants. “I’ll unpack and do some washin’, get rid of all the holiday laundry.”

The domesticity of Becky’s proposal made Charlotte smile in spite of the interruption, and she nodded.

“Okay. I’ll go help Paige with whatever it is that’s so desperately urgent she has to bother me on my day off, and you can stay home and play housewife,” Charlotte teased as Becky threw a pillow at her. Charlotte tried not to think about what Paige wanted with her as she got dressed; whatever it was, it wasn’t gonna be good.

 

The moment Charlotte walked through the door, she sensed the tension.

“God, when you don’t have Lobster with you to distract me, I really notice when you’re gearing up to give me a talk about something,” Charlotte pouted, trying to hide her anxiety behind bratty bravado.

“Honestly Charlotte, I can’t really do this whole-“ Paige paused, to gesture at Charlotte with a look of irritation. “ _Thing_ with you right now. We fucked up.”

“Yes,” Charlotte said patiently. “We’ve established that, but I thought we were putting all that in the past?”

“We were,” Paige said unhappily. “But we can’t just... not say anything.”

“Why not? Becky and I weren’t together at the time, we’ve both moved on, it didn’t mean anything; why are you suddenly so bothered about something we’d agreed to let go?” Charlotte found herself rapidly growing impatient with Paige’s histrionics. “You weren’t so worried about Becky’s feelings at the time-“

“That’s shitty Charlotte, and you know it,” Paige interrupted, taking a step forward to stand face to face with Charlotte, refusing to be intimidated as Charlotte squared her shoulders defensively.

“Just... explain why ruining my relationship is suddenly so important to you?” Charlotte demanded, ignoring the hurt expression that flitted briefly across Paige’s face. “You didn’t care when you were fucking m-“

“Shut up and listen for once,” Paige snarled, shoving Charlotte by the shoulder. Suddenly cowed by Paige’s aggression, Charlotte found herself biting back her acid response. Paige touched Charlotte’s arm apologetically.

“Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about this before, but I had to be sure I was doing the right thing,” Paige said gently. “Charlotte, you can’t go into a decision like this with secrets.”

“A decision like what?” Charlotte asked, confusion clouding her features.

“Oh fuck, she hasn’t done it yet, has she?” Paige said more to herself than to Charlotte. “She told Sasha she was thinking about doing it in Ireland.”

“Doing _what_?” Charlotte asked, exasperated. Paige looked at her with an expression of pity that filled Charlotte with a horrible sinking feeling.

“Charlotte, baby,” Paige said kindly, with the tone one might use when breaking bad news. “Becky’s going to propose to you.”

“Oh shit.”


End file.
